


Shattered Throne

by Moonless_Sky



Category: Original Work
Genre: Demons, Dragons, Elves, F/F, F/M, Fantasy, High Fantasy, I Don't Even Know, Kings & Queens, M/M, Royalty, Swords, Swords & Sorcery, i don't know how to tag
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-11
Updated: 2018-11-24
Packaged: 2019-05-05 03:34:37
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 32,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14608398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Moonless_Sky/pseuds/Moonless_Sky
Summary: One elf must contend with the hawk, dragon, and everything in between if she is to survive in the worldNow cross-posted on fictionpress: https://www.fictionpress.com/s/3327468/1/Shattered-Throne





	1. The Red Hawk

I banged on the large wooden door, creating a loud noise which I hoped would reach the back of the blacksmith’s shop. To my relief, it did, and an accented voice responded back.

“Blast it! I’ll be out in a minute!”

Clanking noises emanated from the back room. Hammer blows - metal on metal - resonated throughout the shop. When the blacksmith finally abated his auditory assault and came to the front of his shop, I was glad. He was tall and thin, and young for a blacksmith. He smiled when he saw me.

“Fiona!” he boomed, “What brings you to my shop?”

I rubbed the back of my neck awkwardly, “Han…hey. I…need a sword.”

He raised his eyebrows, “Why?”

I sighed, “I, uh…I got conscripted into The Veil.”

He gasped in awe, or what I hoped was awe.

“That’s a good gig, that is.” Han shook his head, “How’d you ever manage to get a position in the Lord Regent’s elite squad of soldiers?”

“I have no idea” I responded, “A page came directly from the lord-commander to tell me.”

He smiled, “And that’s what you need a sword for. They would probably give you one, but you seem like the type to want something flashy.” He chuckled and looked at a rack of swords, “You could actually probably make one yourself given all the time you spend here. But I think I have something you’ll like.”

Han grinned devilishly and disappeared into his storeroom. He reemerged a few minutes later carrying a long, cloth-wrapped parcel.

“In one of the scrap metal loads you brought me” he said, still smiling, “I found a lump of stormsteel. And with the help of this” he held up a sketchbook, _my_ sketchbook, and my eyes widened. “I made this.”

He set the package down in front of me and pulled away the cloth. Sitting in it was a sword. It was beautiful. The handle was polished and gleamed white. The pommel was carved to look like a dragon’s head with two black rocks as eyes and another clutched in its mouth. The handle was wrapped in blackened leather, and the cross guard was simple, but it had a line of glyphs carved across it. The blade was covered with a simple blackened leather scabbard.

I looked towards Han, “You made this…for me?”

He nodded, “You always talk about having your own sword, and I might’ve done a bit of poking around in your sketchbook. Look at the blade.”

I picked the sword up. Its grip fit almost perfectly in my hand and had enough room for both of my hands, and its weight felt perfect, not too heavy, but light enough for one-handed use. I pulled it out of its sheath to inspect the blade. It was dark grey, the color of stormsteel no matter what sort of treating it had gone through during forging. It was about three feet long. Near the guard, glyphs stretched up the blade, along with a shallow fuller.

I turned to Han, “What do they say?” I gestured to the glyphs.

He smiled, “It’s a set of glyphs I got from an Ascari merchant a few years ago. I actually forgot what they say.”

I sheathed the sword and set it down, shaking my head, “You are such a nerd.”

He struck a pose, “The nerdiest.”

He walked towards me and embraced me, “You’ve been like a sister to me.” He laughed, “I hope you do well having an actual job.”

I brushed the tears away from my eyes and wrapped my arms around him like it was the last time I would see him.

He pulled away but kept his hands on my shoulders, smiling at me.

“Let me load a pack full of provisions for you.” He said, and before I could say no he interrupted, “And I’m not giving you a choice.”

He took his hands off my shoulders and walked into the small house adjoined to his shop. I heard rustling and cursing until Han reappeared with a small leather rucksack in hand. He thrust it towards me, still intent on not giving me a choice. I took it and slung it over my shoulder. I slid my sword into the space between my back and the sack.

 _My sword_.

He looked at me fondly. “I meant what I said. You are like my sister. Just…make sure not to die.”

I looked into his eyes, and he seemed truly scared for me, so I embraced him again.

“Goodbye Han.” I said, feeling tears threatening to spill.

Han smiled. “Goodbye. IF you ever find your way back to the capitol, find me.”

I nodded, and then I walked out of his shop. I walked until I reached one of the city gates, and I looked back out over the city I was born in. The palace shone like a beacon, and the city was arrayed around it in rings and smoke. I savored the look for a moment more, and then I turned around and walked through the gate.

\---

The stronghold that the Veil operated out of was on the other side of Caelus from the capitol, and It was midday a week later when I finally reached it. My feet ached and I was thoroughly exhausted.

_Why did it have to be so far away?_

Thankfully, after I cleared the top of the next hill, the keep came into view. It was pretty well hidden, built into the side of a mountain and perpetually in the shadow of larger mountains. When I neared the gate, it slid ominously up to meet me. After I passed the threshold, it felt like there were hundreds of eyes staring at me. It was unsettling. I reached the center of the yard and looked around. It seemed deserted.

I called out to see if there was anyone, “Hello?”

There was no response, and if anything, the silence seemed to become more oppressive, the shadows blanketing the edges of the yard darkening.

Swallowing my fear, I spoke again. “I was recruited by the Lord-Commander. His letter told me to come here.”

A single cloaked and hooded figure melted out of the shadows and padded towards me, silent as the night.

He pulled back his hood, revealing his face. He had a close-cropped beard, very short hair, and a hawkish nose. He face was tense, as if expecting attack.

He looked around at the shadows bordering the yard, “Dismissed!” he yelled.

The shadows shifted and expelled a small amount men, similarly cloaked and hooded.

He inclined his head, “Ser Cain, at your service.”

“If you don’t mind my saying, Ser, you look very…”

“Young?” he finished for me. “I’m only twenty-two summers.”

He held out a hand, and I shook it. He looked me up and down, sizing me up. After a while, the tension in his face eased.

“The Lord-Commander is returning from a mission. When he reaches the keep, he’ll speak with you. In the meantime, you should take a shower.”

I was about to reply when a massive roar sounded from the sky. It was accompanied by a repeated thud that sounded every two seconds.

Cain sighed, “That’ll be the Lord-Commander.”

“What the hell is that noise?” I asked.

For the first time, he smiled and pointed to the sky, “You’ll see. Look.”

I looked towards the sky, and we stood for a moment, until a massive shape eclipsed the setting sun. It was a dragon. An honest-to-god dragon.

It was beautiful. Its underbelly was a sea of shades of grey. Its wings let the light shine through and created a mosaic of lighter grey hues. When it alighted in the yard, I saw that the rest of it was similarly colored. Upon its back a saddle was strapped, and strapped to said saddle was, I assumed, the Lord-Commander. He looked small in comparison to the dragon, which was to be expected.

He undid the straps around his legs and slid off the dragon’s back. The dragon twisted its head around to look at him and he patted its head before walking toward us.

His clothes were unlike the rest of the assassins. He wore a long, double-breasted, black coat, adorned with numerous pads of leather armor. Beneath that, he wore a black tunic over a grey shirt, similarly black trousers, and a pair of worn boots. Weapons glinted along his belt, and other things caught my attention as well. Metal vials and pouches were spread along the belt. A sword handle poked over his shoulder. His face was concealed behind a black and white checkerboard scarf, and his eyes hidden under the shadow of his hood. When he neared us, he tugged the scarf down and pulled the hood off.

I wasn’t sure what I was expecting. A wizened old man, maybe a grizzled military veteran. Someone who instilled confidence and fear. I certainly wasn’t expecting a guy who only looked a year or two older than me. He had short, spiky, dark blonde hair pushed back with the bangs hanging down, which framed a slightly feminine face. A scar crossed over his mouth near the left corner. His eyes were steely gray. But for a guy who looked as young as I did, his eyes were too old, they looked like they had seen too much, and they seemed to bore into me as his gaze swept over me, to Cain.

He spoke, and his voice was low and musical, and carried an old-sounding accent. “Cain! How have things been holding up during my absence?”

“Remarkably well, actually.” Cain responded, “It’s been rather dull without you and Thorn here.” He gestured to the dragon.

 _So that’s the dragons name_.

“Well” said the Lord-Commander, shrugging, “The Phoenix was not just going to murder himself.”

Cain nodded, and then he gestured subtly towards me. The Lord-Commander looked towards me and stared. When I finally met his gaze, he spoke.

“You must be Fiona.”

“Yes, Ser.”

“It’s been a while since I met an elf.” He chuckled, “And the “Ser” isn’t necessary, although I am a knight. My name is…just…call me Crow. We’ll cover introductions later.” His face became serious, “Do you know why you’re here?”

I shifted from foot to foot, “No.”

“You’re here because the Lord Regent doesn’t like that there are still slums in Urbus” he shrugged, “You’re also here because you have something of a reputation…as a thief. You remind me of a younger me.”

“ _A younger you?_ You sound like an old man.”

He coughed awkwardly and gestured to the keep, “Walk with me.” He looked towards Cain, “Why don’t you organize a feast, to celebrate our newest initiate.”

Cain smiled, “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a proper feast. I expect the men will be excited. Shall I ask Thorn to hunt for some meat?”

Crow shook his head, “Let him rest. It was a long mission for both of us. But bring out some extra barrels of mead and some of the giant deer we have frozen.”

Cain nodded and walked off. Crow started walking towards the keep and motioned for me to follow. I stalked after him, trying to keep pace with his long stride. He noticed and slowed down, matching my pace.

He apologized, “I’m not used to giving people the tour anymore.”

“You’re not used to it?”

He shook his head, “We haven’t had any new members in a long time. But on to a lighter subject; that room we just passed” he was referring to a large room with tables, “was the mess hall. Everyone takes their meals there, unless you’re on a mission. If you get hungry during the day, the pantry is always stocked.”

“Where does everyone stay” I asked, “This keep isn’t that big.”

“It’s built into a mountain” Crow responded. “Various rooms extend nearly to the peak. The Dragonhold takes up most of the top, though.”

“Dragonhold?” I asked.

“You’ll see soon enough” he shook his head, “You have packed month ahead of you.”

I scrunched my face in disgust, “Do I really?”

Crow nodded, “Tomorrow, your skills in various fields; stealth, swordplay, poison, etcetera, will be tested. The next day, you’ll be outfitted with equipment. The day after that, you go on your first mission with an overseer, either me or Cain. After that you can relax for a day, which will be nice, trust me. The rest of the month is mostly just missions and training. The final day, however, you go through the test of the Dragonhold.”

I swore, “You’re just never going to tell me what it is, are you?”

“Nope.”

We reached a large wooden door and Crow pushed it open. The room beyond was large, square, and very sparsely furnished. A bed was pushed against one wall with a chest next to it, and a desk was against the opposite wall. Next to the chest was a wooden cabinet with a basin on top of it, and a mirror mounted above it.

“This is your room.” said Crow. “You won’t be spending a lot of time in here, but try to keep it clean.”

Crow left after that, and I walked over and sat down on the bed. It wasn’t the plushest, but it was softer than anything I had ever slept on. I could feel the pillows and sheets calling to me, and my muscles joined in, but I resisted the temptation and instead went to the mirror.

It had been a long time since I had looked at my reflection, and it only emphasized to me how dirty I was.

I splashed water from the basin onto my face. It got most of the dirt off, and I deemed it as good enough. I looked at the pointed tips of my ears. I could have hid them with a sweep of my stark white hair, but I decided against it. Elvish prejudice wasn’t very big in the north.

I took a deep breath and left my room, intent on meeting whoever I found.


	2. Hooray for Regicide

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In my defense, this chapter took so long because I had rewrite most of it, and i write in the most agonizingly small increments. Enjoy!

I rubbed my eyes in a vain attempt to wake myself up as Crow dragged me towards the yard.

“I told you about this mission two days ago” Crow scolded me, “I also told you last night to get a good night’s sleep.”

I groaned, “You told me that at the _crack of dawn_. I would’ve loved a full night’s sleep, but _NO_ ; you just had to make my lesson drag on, _and on_. I might not be well rested but _now_ I know _poisonous plants_.”

“Do you” Crow said and turned around to face me, walking backwards. I could see now that he had a small smile on his face. “Then which plant causes paralysis of body systems when ingested: Hemlock or Nightshade?”

“Easy” I responded immediately. “Hemlock.”

Crow turned back around and continued to walk. “See? That’ll be useful someday.”

“Will I though?” I asked. “Will it really?”

“Well…” he began, obviously without a retort. At my snickering he frowned, “Shut up.”

We walked in silence for a while until we came to the yard, where Thorn sat, saddled and ready.

Crow stopped and turned to me, “Before we go, I want you to spar with me.”

My face screwed up in confusion, “What?”

“Spar with me. Cain tells me your lessons are going well, but I want to see for myself.”

He drew his sword from his back and spun it experimentally. It was beautiful. Shorter than my own sword, but almost as wide. It had a simple, block-y hilt, made of some sort of silver metal. The pommel was made from what i assumed was the same metal, and the grip was wrapped in blackened leather. The blade was the strangest part, it had a mild taper and was colored entirely white. It seemed like the sword weighed almost nothing, judging by the way Crow spun it effortlessly.

My eyes widened. “What’s it made of?”

Crow pondered for a moment, “I don’t actually remember. But as for the color, which is probably what you were asking about, I did some very fancy magic while very intoxicated and I don’t remember how.” He laughed and gave the blade a spin. “Its name is Farseer.”

The way he said the name sent shivers down my spine, “How?”

He shrugged. “I feel like knowing would ruin it, so I’ve never looked into it. Barring that fact, It was—and is—a _really_ improper way to make a sword, even with the proper enchantments. You won’t see another sword like this anywhere.”

He got into a loose stance and beckoned me with one hand. I drew my own sword and took a breath to calm myself before I rushed at him. He was quicker than me and slashed from the right diagonally. I parried and feinted to the left, going for an overhead strike. He parried easily. He knocked me down more times than I cared to count, but I kept getting back up. It went on in the same fashion—neither of us gaining traction—for a while, though I suspected Crow was holding back.

“Dodge!” he suddenly shouted.

I only just managed to bring my sword up to block his overhead strike. I braced my hand against the flat of my blade to hold Crow’s sword up. It took all my strength but eventually I felt him falter and I lashed out, knocking him to the ground for the first time. I felt a sense of smug satisfaction that I had managed to knock him down.

He rolled and got to his feet, grinning wickedly, before he muttered a few words I couldn’t hear. I tried to run towards him and attack again but I found I couldn’t move my feet. I glanced down and saw that my feet were encased in stone that had reached from the ground.

I glared at Crow and he laughed, “You have to pay attention to every detail when you fight someone, Fiona.”

He sheathed his sword and walked over to me. We both stared for a while before he reached out his hand and pushed my head slightly. I lost my balance and fell over. At the last second I wrapped my hand around his arm. His eyes went wide as we both tumbled to the ground.

It took me a moment to realize that Crow was on top of me. I caught his eyes, and I could feel his heart hammering in his chest.

I didn’t much appreciate the opposite sex, but Crow was…nice looking, up close. His face was slim and very slightly feminine, though his hard jawline the muscles I could see working in his face and neck betrayed his strength. I stared at the scar over the corner of his mouth and wondered what it would feel like again _stop it Stop It STOP IT_.

I felt my face heat and I silently cursed myself for letting my mind derail me.

Crow cleared his throat and he was up again in an instant, springing gracefully to his feet. I propped myself up on my elbows and looked at him coyly, and he responded with an otherwise stoic expression, an emotion I couldn’t place dancing in his eyes.

“Pay attention to every detail, huh?”I said.

The muscles in Crow’s cheek clenched and I thought he would start scowling or pouting. Instead, he smiled, and then he was laughing. His body shook, and he bent over and braced his hands on his knees. His laughter echoed off the walls of the keep.

Crow looked back at me after he had stopped laughing. He was wiping tears from his eyes.

“That’s the first time I’ve really laughed in a long time.”

“I can tell.” I replied.

He sheathed his sword and jerked his head towards the dragon. “Let’s get going.”

\---

The dragon had been flying for about eight hours, if my internal clock was anything to go by. I watched different scenery fly by under us. First had been the sparse grasslands of the North. We hadn’t flown over any towns or villages, which I suspected was Crow’s intention.

Neither of us had spoken since we had left the keep, and I was still embarrassed about my thoughts concerning Crow as we sparred. I think Crow knew too, but he didn’t speak up, so we sat in silence, and I turned my attention back to the landscape.

We had passed out of the North, and into an area with more plants and trees. I wondered what region we had just passed into, and Crow finally spoke.

“We just passed over the border between the North and West!” he yelled over the roar of the wind, like he had read my mind. “It’s going to get marshier as we get further west, but luckily our destination is still on solid ground!”

That was the last either of us spoke for the next few hours, until Thorn landed in a clearing in the tall woods around us. I swung one of my legs over Thorn’s side and slid off his back, relishing the feeling of my feet on solid ground again.

Which is what I did for all of about two seconds, before my legs turned to water and my face was planted squarely in the dirt. I let myself lay for a little, finally noticing the horrible soreness spreading throughout all of my legs and thighs.

I spat dirt out and rolled over. Looking up at the sky I could feel blood rush to my face.

_That was so fucking embarrassing_

A chuckle sound to my left so I looked to find Crow crouching next to me.

He was smiling. “If it makes you feel any better, the first time I rode Thorn, I fell off of him and down a hill. A rock caught me here,” he put a hand on his left shoulder, “And it tore a gash all the way across my back.”

It did make me feel better, in a smug, spiteful way. Crow stood and offered me a hand. I took it and he hauled me up with ease.

“Look towards me.” He said, and after I complied he took my face gently in one of his hands and tilted it every which way, I assumed to check for damage. “Believe it or not, that isn’t the stupidest thing someone has done getting off of Thorn.” He kept speaking as he walked over to Thorn, rummaging around in one of the bags attached to his saddle until he produced a wad of cloth. “One initiate a couple years ago tried jumping off of Thorn’s back.” He handed me the cloth, and I used it to clean my face off, dabbing at a cut I could feel.

“What happened to the initiate?” I asked.

“He landed on his feet…but he broke one of his arms bracing his fall.”

I giggled and Crow chuckled.

“Don’t tell anyone else,” Crow said, “But that initiate is still in the Veil. He was knighted about a year ago too.”

“Was it Cain?” I guessed.

Crow guffawed. “Yes! It was his first mission, about five years ago. He still doesn’t seem to like riding Thorn anywhere.”

I started laughing, and I was wiping tears from my eyes before I knew it. I just couldn’t picture it. Cain was the picture of gracefulness, and I couldn’t picture him doing something so hilariously stupid.

Once I had finally stopped laughing I turned to Crow.

“You never told me where we’re going.”

He shrugged. “I told you it was on solid ground.” He laughed at the glare I sent his way and continued, “It’s a city called _Silvarium_ —it’s Elvish. Roughly translated, it means _in the woods_.”

“That’s kind of…that isn’t really that creative, is it?”

“No.” Crow replied, “But the locals enjoyed how it sounded. Of course, it sounds better when Elves speak their language instead of piss-drunk townspeople.”

I giggled at the imagery of that. “So where is it?”

Crow pointed in a direction. “That way—wait, no,” he spun again and pointed in a different direction, “That way.”

I laughed at him and he scowled at me.

\---

 _Silvarium_ wasn’t a city at all. It was a large, walled castle surrounded by a scattering of smaller wooden houses in a small valley. I could see torches burning along the top of the wall, and they illuminated guards placed neatly along it. The hills surrounding it were grassy and lush, but it ended in the valley. The grass had all died, and it was so dry that it turned to dust in my hands.

I crouched down behind the hill Crow and I were hiding behind.

“You were pretty vague when you explained this all to me.” I glanced at Crow, “What are we actually here to do?”

“Commit regicide.” Crow said casually.

“I see.” I said sarcastically. “Well, I grew up piss-poor in a slum, so I don’t know what that means.”

“It means, Fiona,” Crow stood up and pulled me up after I took his offered hand, “that we’re here to kill the lord in that castle.”

“Hang on.” I put a hand up. “What did whoever we got sent here to kill do to deserve it?”

Crow shrugged. “You know, it’s really my fault that you don’t know any of this. He’s abusing the power the Lord Regent gave him and refusing to respond to the summons.” He swept a hand out and gestured to the houses. “This wasn’t always a wasteland. The lord got angry at his subjects and ordered his mage to _burn_ _the valley_.” He put his hands on my shoulders and looked into my eyes, speaking with grave seriousness. “I’ve seen what leaving people like him for too long can do. He needs to be stopped.”

I sighed, defeated, and shrugged. “Let’s go kill him, then.”

\---

Regicide sucked, I decided as I limped out of the castle, most of my weight supported by Crow. The crossbow bolt buried in my leg throbbed in time with the pounding of boots against the stone behind Crow and I.

I stole a glance at Crow, who looked worse than I felt. His face, and probably mine as well, was crisscrossed by a hundred tiny cuts—a side effect of being thrown through a large glass window—and a bruise was beginning to form on the left side of his face. His chest had a large gash running shoulder to waist, profusely leaking blood.

I felt some responsibility for the chest wound. The sword had been meant for me, but Crow had jumped in and taken the blow. I felt bad, but as Crow and I furiously limped away from the castle, I couldn’t bring myself to care that much.

I had just helped kill someone. It’s not like it was the first time I had seen death. Growing up in slums, I had seen my fair share of corpses, murdered or otherwise. But It made me feel different to have participated directly in it. I could feel the rings that Crow had taken of the lord’s body as proof jangling around in one of the pockets of my coat. He hadn’t been what I expected. I had imagined a tall, imposing man, with fire in his eyes and evil in his heart. But I got an old man, half-crazy and spouting nonsense. Crow had sat down in front of the Lord and explained that he and I were there to kill him. And he _welcomed_ it, greeted death like an old friend.

The Lord had removed the rings with shaky fingers and given them to Crow. Crow had taken a knife from his belt and handed it to the Lord. And then Crow had put an arm around my shoulders and led me out of the room.

Then everything went to shit.

The Lord’s personal guard had shown up. Crow’s sword was out before I could even move, and it flashed through the air. One of the guards went down, but the others were smarter. One of them came after me, and Crow dropped his guard to defend me. One of the guards had bodily picked Crow up and tossed him through the nearest window. I was soon to follow, as I rushed to the window to check on Crow, making myself an easy target.

I hit the ground hard and saw stars, and Crow did most of the work, helping me up and putting my arm over his shoulders. We had almost made it out, and then an asshole with a crossbow buried a bolt in the back of my left thigh.

So, Regicide sucked.

Like, it really _sucked_.

But I kept my mouth shut until I heard a roar from above us, accompanied by a rushing wind, and a sound so deep I could feel it shake my teeth.

I felt Crow pull away from me, and I swayed until something large and leathery encircled my entire body and then I shot up into the air before I could even yell. I couldn’t move to see what it was, but if I stretched my neck uncomfortably, I could see a large, grey, reptilian head. Crow was just across from me, wrapped in the dragon’s large hand.

Crow opened his mouth but whatever he yelled was lost to the roaring of the wind. I shook my head and he frowned.

The wind nipped at every cut I had, making my face throb with every gust that came my way. I wagered that Crow was having a similar time but I took no satisfaction from it.

I felt bad for him.

I had been mentally complaining about helping, but Crow had handed him the knife. He had practically killed him.

I knew it was completely irrational. Crow had probably killed so many people it was dizzying, if his Lord-Commander title was anything to go on. It was probably nothing to him at this point.

I wondered what kind of life that would be. What kind of person would it make you?

Would _I_ turn into something like that one day?

\---

I had fallen asleep, because the next thing I knew, I felt hard ground under me—pebbles poking into my face and a cloud of dust settling around me. I let a pained groan escape my lips and looked up. My eyes immediately settled on Crow. He was already up, and was struggling to walk towards me on shaky legs. He made it a few more steps before he collapsed ungracefully a few feet away from me.

I let my head fall back to the ground, barely even feeling the pain of the rough ground. The sound of fire drew my attention, and I looked up to see Crow on his back, a small pipe in his hand, with his other hand conjuring a fire to light it. He puffed a few times and then inhaled for a few seconds, letting out a cloud of smoke.

“ _Really?_ ” I asked. “Is now the time?”

Crow groaned. “It’s…it’s a painkiller.”

“That’s a lie and we both know it. I lived around it for nineteen years. _I_ know the smell of Blackleaf.”

Crow was silent for a moment. “It…still works…it just makes me mellow out a bit."

I felt a tap on my shoulder and looked up; Crow had dragged himself closer and was holding the pipe out to me.

“No.” I shook my head. “ _Absolutely_ not. I will not smoke Blackleaf. _Never._ I don’t care how much pain I’m in.”

Crow didn’t withdraw his hand, and we stared each other in the eyes for a long time, until Crow spoke.

“If it makes you feel better, this isn’t the kind you get addicted to. And you _really_ need it.” He lowered the pipe and cast a glance towards the crossbow buried in my leg. “Because I’m about to take that out of your leg, and it’s gonna hurt.”

I paled. “Why do you need to take it out now?” I asked with alarm.

“If you would rather I could just cut your leg off,” Crow responded, not a trace of joke in his voice, “If I don’t take it out and dress the wound, it will get infected.” He held the pipe out to me again. “Please. I don’t want to cause you any more pain.”

His eyes were sincere, and he silently pleaded with me until I finally relented.

“Fine. _Fine._ ”

I took the pipe in my hands and brought it up to my lips, sealing them around the end and inhaling for almost ten seconds. I handed the pipe back to Crow before I let out a long column of smoke that twirled up into the sky.

It tasted…sweet, and there was no aftertaste like so many other Blackleaf users had told me about. I felt very light suddenly, like I was floating. All of the sounds I had been hearing were muffled now, including Crow’s sudden bout of laughter. I looked over at him and blinked when all of his motions appeared blurred.

Crow seemed to know what was happening, and he spoke louder to compensate.

“Lie down.” He said.

Lying down sounded very nice. I complied and sank into the suddenly soft ground. It felt so good to rest. There would be no harm in resting my eyes for a little…or a lot.

My eyelids slid shut and I slipped into a deep, dreamless sleep.

\---

The first thought I had as I regained consciousness was that my back was pleasantly warm.

My next thought was _shit fuck fuck shitfuck my leg hurts fuckfuck shit_ which jolted me the rest of the way awake. I struggled and writhed for a minute before I heard a soothing voice in my ear.

“It’s alright. We’re safe. Just calm down.”

I struggled for a moment longer before I relaxed, letting myself lean into whoever was behind me.

“Crow?” I said hoarsely.

“Yeah.” He responded from behind me. “The Blackleaf really did a number on you. You’ve been asleep for almost,” I felt him shift, “ten hours.”

I groaned weakly. “My leg hurts.”

“It _will_ hurt for a few days.”

I groaned again and I could almost hear Crow rolling his eyes. “Chin up! At least you still have a leg.”

I huffed and blew a strand of hair that had escaped my braid out of my face. Crow and I rode the rest of the way in silence.

When we landed in the yard, the sun was just beginning to set. Even though I had slept for almost half of the day, I felt exhausted and ready to sink into the soft bed in my room. Cain was waiting for us in the middle of the yard, and after Crow helped me down from Thorn’s back, he shifted my weight over to Cain.

“Take her back to her room. I have some business to attend to. And Fiona,” he said, turning to me, “Excellent job. Hold out your hand.”

I held out a hand, and he pressed something small and metal into it, giving me a quick smile before walking away.

I looked down at my hand to see a small grey ring. Upon closer inspection, there was a design of flames running around the ring. And then it hit me; it was one of the rings the Lord had handed to Crow.

I wanted to throw it away, cast it into the dirt. But I slipped it on to my left ring finger and let Cain help me into the keep.

“So.” I said as we walked. “You tried to jump off Thorn.”

Cain laughed suddenly. “That fucker. I told him not to tell anyone.”

I tried to keep in my own laughter, but I failed. “But it’s _funny_.”

“Yeah.” Cain laughed. “Yeah it is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For anyone curious, the Elvish language is just Latin, Fiona likes girls but Crow looks hot, Blackleaf is pretty much just weed, and before Fiona cut herself off she was going to wonder what Crow's lip scar would feel like against her own lips. Also formatting is different because I'm an idiot and uploading in RTF is way better for formatting than plain HTML. Thanks for reading.
> 
> EDIT: I redesigned Reyn's sword to resemble a Chinese jian bc i just rewatched Avatar: The Last Airbender and i really like how Sokka's sword looks


	3. Revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not the happiest with this chapter, more specifically the end, but I just finished Junior Year, and I'm really happy for some reason, so now this. I hope you enjoy!

I stared down at the almost overly fanciful clothes that had been given to me. A plain white undershirt, a black tunic, grey close-fitting trousers, a leather belt for me to fasten my sword to, and the pair of worn and scuffed boots that I had been wearing, which had miraculously been cleaned and polished. All in all, the clothes were a definite improvement to the patchwork tunic and pants I had walked in with. I peeled off my leather armor and stripped down to my smallclothes. I was about to pick up the undershirt when I heard my door creak open.

“Fiona.” It was Crow. He maneuvered around the door and stopped dead when he saw me.

For once, he was surprised.

I smiled and faced him, putting my hands on my hips. “Something you need to tell me?”

Scarlet slowly crept up his cheeks, but his face recovered its impassive expression. He was dressed in something simple. A white shirt, carelessly open at the collar, black pants, and a belt that held a dagger on his side. His sword, usually across his back, was secured to the belt.

“Why aren’t you wearing something fancy?” I asked.

The corners of his mouth quirked up, “I’m the Lord-Commander, I dress how I want, whenever I want. Besides, I like to spite new initiates before they take the test by making them dress fancy.”

I sighed, “Get out, I need to get dressed.”

He walked towards the door, “Hurry, we’re late.”

I huffed indignantly and pulled on the pants, “You’re choosing to tell me this after the fact?”

“Yes, I am.” He responded flatly.

I fastened the belt around my waist and grabbed my sword, “You’re not good at your job.”

He chuckled and pulled me out of the room, “Quiet, I’m great at it.”

I felt a pull from my thigh, almost like I could still feel the wound. It had mostly healed in the week since my first mission, but it still gave me phantom pains every now and again. I winced, but Crow didn’t seem to notice.

After an uncomfortable amount of silence, I spoke. “Can you tell me what the test of the Dragonhold is now?”

Crow laughed. “It’s pretty self-explanatory” he replied. “The Dragonhold is filled with dragon eggs-“

“Dragon eggs?!” I blurted. “How many?”

Crow shrugged. “I don’t know…a lot. But it doesn’t really matter. There’ll be two people in the Dragonhold besides you. It is pretty common for there to be more, but it’ll just be Cain and I. I’ll be conducting the test, and Cain will be there, being Cain.”

Crow and I walked in silence until we came to a large stone door. Cain stood in front of it, looking as imposing and impassive as ever, but as I passed into the dark room beyond, he gave me a subtle wink.

The room was circular, larger than I could’ve imagined, and all made of the same black rock. And it was filled, wall to wall, with shelves loaded to bursting with eggs extending far upwards. There must have been thousands of them.

I looked back at Crow.

“This is the test of the Dragonhold.” He began. “It’s all very simple—walk around this room and see if any of the eggs respond to you, or vice versa. There will be no penalty for failure, but the test can only be taken one.”

Crow maneuvered around me and gestured towards the shelves, as if presenting them to me.

I took a deep breath and plunged into the stacks, searching for something, _anything_ , that called to me. I tried touching them, polishing them, even almost licking one.

 _Almost_.

As I progressed further into the shelves, I noticed that the colors became more vibrant, but there were much less of them.

I walked past another row, but backtracked quickly. Something about that particular row called to me. I walked down it and scanned the Technicolor rainbow of eggs all crammed together. Suddenly my hand shot out and grasped a seemingly random egg. I pulled it off the shelf and held it in front of me. Shades of pure black splayed over its faceted surface. I didn’t know how, but I knew…

This egg was mine.

I cradled it to my chest and made my way back to Cain and Crow. Crow raised an eyebrow as I approached.

“It hasn’t hatched yet?”

“No” I replied. “But I get this feeling when I’m around it. A strong pulling sensation. I can’t explain it.”

He replied, but it was lost to a dull ringing noise that permeated my ears. I shook my head and my vision became blurred and doubled. I looked down at my arms and almost screamed at the sight of flames licking off of them. I tumbled to the ground. The ringing had stopped and I could hear Crow shouting.

“-don’t know. I didn’t think this would happen.” I heard him yell in frustration. “Get some bandages and meet me at my quarters.”

“What... _why_? And what is this?”

“ _I don’t know!_ ” Crow shouted, and I was surprised by the desperation I could hear in his voice. “Something like this hasn’t happened since I took the test” Crow answered. “And she’s definitely got worse control than I did. I’ve got to try to siphon it off.”

Somebody let out an agonizing scream. It took a moment to realize that somebody was me. It felt like I was burning and freezing at the same time. I felt hands under my head and knees, and I felt myself being hoisted into the air. I managed to turn my head to see that it was Crow who was carrying me.

I saw his mouth moving, but any words he spoke were drowned out and muffled beyond recognition. A door way passed overhead, and I didn’t need to look to see that Crow was nearly sprinting. My eyes were still trained on him and it seemed like his skin was crumbling away to reveal another face. It was so absurd it had to be a hallucination, but at this point I didn’t have enough strength to care. I felt my head fall against Crow’s shoulder and my eyelids finally drooped closed.

\---

My dreams were very vivid. I was lying in a bed that wasn’t my own, smothered in blankets and shivering, but somehow burning alive. But I wasn’t alone. Someone sat next to the bed. A girl with dark blonde hair cut familiarly short, in a white shirt and black pants. She was singing in a beautiful silvery tone. I couldn’t understand the words she was saying, but they comforted me nonetheless. I tried to listen for as long as I could, but eventually my vision blurred, and it drifted away from me.

Next was an image of a charred landscape, with fires burning all around me. They sky was crimson, and blood red clouds brooded over me, roiling with thunder. Not a second later, the air reeked of ozone and a massive cloud exploded over me. The infinitely forking bolt of pure energy raced towards me, splitting the sky as it went. But moments before it hit me, everything crumbled to blackness.

\---

I shot awake, drenched in sweat. Had it all been a dream? I looked around and was met with unfamiliar surroundings. Not my bedroom. Not a dream. I looked down at myself. My clothes were charred and torn, and I had multiple bandages wrapped around various parts. _Definitely_ not a dream.

I threw off the blankets and furs covering me and shivered. I swung my legs over the edge of the bed and tested them. A little sore, but still in working order. I stood up and wobbled slightly before walking through the door into the room beyond.

One end of the room was a large hole to the outside, big enough to fit a dragon and currently covered by an opaque curtain. On one end of the room there was a small kitchen. At the opposite end was a cluttered desk and a few book shelves. In the middle was a plush looking couch, currently occupied. It was Crow, but…it wasn’t.

He was curled up on the couch, looking so calm and relaxed. And Different. He was still muscled, but much thinner. His arms were wrapped in snowy white bandages, and he had a fuller chest, and slightly narrower hips. His hair was the same, but now a solid grey streak ran through it.

He was a _she_.

Crow was a girl.

My mouth hung open. Like, physically hung open. I couldn’t believe my eyes. How was this possible? Scratch that. It _wasn’t_ possible. But sitting in front of me was proof. I just sat and stared for a long time. Eventually Crow stirred and opened his–or rather, her–eyes. She blinked for a few moments and looked around before her eyes settled on me. She bolted up.

Her voice was slightly higher, and it still carried the same old-sounding accent. “Fiona! You’re awake!”

My mouth continued to hang open, and Crow frowned.

She stepped closer and looked me up and down. “Are you all right? I’ve got some potions that-“

I opened and closed my mouth a few times, but no sound would come. My eyes flickered between Crow’s face and chest

Crow looked confused. I cast my eyes downward again.

She trailed off and her gaze shifted downwards, towards her chest.

Her mouth opened and closed a few times, trying in vain to form words.

Finally, after what seemed like eons, she spoke a single word.

“Fuck.”

\---

Crow had been pacing the length of the room for the past twenty minutes and I was sitting on the couch, kneading my hands.

Finally I spoke. “Stop pacing. You’re making me nervous.”

She stopped and sat down in the center of the floor. “Sorry” she said, rubbing the back of her neck. “I do that when I’m anxious.”

I suppressed a chuckle. “Can you tell me what happened to me after the test?”

Crow shook her head. “I really don’t know. I’ve heard lots of weird stories about new riders, but nothing like this. You had a sort of…pent-up cache of power. Your dragon released it and it rampaged through you. I managed to siphon most of it off, but not without consequences.” She held up her arms. “A lot of cuts and burns. But that isn’t the worst of it. Siphoning off your power interrupted a few spells I had going at the time; my wards, and namely my glamour-“

“Glamour?” I interrupted.

“It’s a web of magic that alters my appearance. I started using it back when I first started doing jobs. People respected me more.”

“Why would you stay like that?” I asked.

Crow ran a hand through her hair, pushing her bangs off her face. “It was easier. People are assholes, _especially_ when they’re condescending.” She was silent for a moment. “You weren’t supposed to find out, especially not like this. The only two people who know about this are Cain and the Lord Regent…and maybe like…a barmaid or two. I don’t know, I like alcohol.”

I felt a flare of jealousy, and I couldn’t tell why.

Another thought crossed my mind. “Were you…did you _sing_ to me?”

Crow flushed red. “You remember that? I didn’t think you were awake.”

“I didn’t either. But it was beautiful. What were you singing?”

“It’s an old elvish lullaby about two lovers who find each other from across the deeps of time. My mother used to sing it to me when I had nightmares.”

“You’re an elf?” I asked, surprised.

Crow twisted her head and tapped the tapered points of her ears. “Half-Elven.”

“Well, I’ve got to hand it to you” I said, “Both versions of you look pretty nice. But I think I prefer this one.”

_Where the fuck did that come from, brain?_

Crow’s eyes widened and her cheeks became a deep red. I broke out laughing at her expression and she gave a few uneasy chuckles.

When I finally stopped laughing we sat in silence, and another question popped into my mind.

“Crow isn’t your real name, is it?”

Crow let out a bark of laughter. “No it is not. It’s…ah…Reyn.” She shifted around uncomfortably for a few moments. “My name. My name is Reyn.”

“Reyn” I said, testing the name on my tongue. “It’s nice. Any sort of last name?”

“You wouldn’t recognize it. Plus if I told you I’d lose my air of mystery.”

I chuckled. “So what happens now?”

Reyn grinned crookedly, the scar over her mouth stretching with her smile.

“Aside from seeing who I can fuck with now that I’m a girl again? I’m going to teach you.”

“You already teach me.”

“Except now you’re special.” Reyn said, only mildly sarcastic. “I’m going to teach you magic.”

I smiled wide, and I was sure my eyes were lighting up like a small child seeing a toy for the first time.

Reyn smiled at my expression, an emotion I couldn’t place dancing in her eyes.

“It’s not all fun.” Reyn said, becoming at least semi-serious. “Magic can be dangerous. But you’re the first dragon rider since me, so I’m going to make it fun.”

“Nepotism much, _Lord-Commander_?”

“Ooo,” Reyn replied, a smile on her face. “Big words, Miss I-Grew-Up-Piss-Poor-In-A-Slum.”

I stayed stoic for a moment before I dissolved into fits of laughter. Reyn joined me soon after. Her laugh was a wonderful noise, musical and high. It was filled with all the awe of a child marveling at something for the first time.

After we stopped laughing, Reyn pondered for a moment.

“Let me show you what you can do with magic.” She said.

Reyn stood up and walked over to the opaque curtain. She cast it aside with a wave of her hand and put both arms out on either side of her.

The sun was just reaching its highest point, but quickly the sky grew dark. Foreboding clouds and thunderheads gathered.

The air crackled with static, and thunder boomed outside the mountain. Lightning struck the ground a ways away from the mountain, and then a massive group of lightning bolts struck the spot in quick succession.

Eventually the onslaught stopped, and the sky lightened, but stayed cloudy. Reyn put her arms down and stood for a moment before she swayed and almost fell over. She caught herself before she could and turned to face me, looking expectant.

“That was _amazing_.” I said, sure my face was showing the most dumbstruck expression.

“Right?” Reyn said. “That’s what I want to teach you.”

I laughed. “Alright. Yes, I want to learn.”

Reyn pumped a fist up in the air. “Yes!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For clarification, Crow's real name is Reyn, and she is biologically female. And directly from the character sheet I made for her, she is the gayest gay to ever gay in the entire universe. I sincerely apologize if, because of that, you won't continue reading, but to each their own. On an unrelated note, this will be the last chapter for a while because I write like an idiot and skip around in my own story. On an even more unrelated unrelated note, thank you for reading, and thanks to Isada for leaving kudos because it makes me happy that someone actually liked my writing enough to do that.


	4. mAgIC

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is sponsored by sleep deprivation, energy drinks, classical music, Eric Whitacre, Berlioz, The The, and This Will Destroy You. Thank you  
> I hope you enjoy  
> im too tired to punctuate correctly

“You know,” I said from my position sprawled out on the cool stone floor of the large room Reyn and I were in, “training tends to work better when you actually _train_. You haven’t taught me a single thing for,” I pondered mockingly, “almost three days.”

“Oh, _I’m sorry_ Fiona,” Reyn said very sarcastically, “Did you just change genders recently? Did you need to talk to your friends about that? Did you need to send a message to the Lord Regent about that? No?” She crossed her arms. “Didn’t think so.”

“You’re so much meaner as a girl.” I said.

“I am a _so_ much meaner, Fi. Can I call you Fi? I’m gonna call you Fi.”

“Or,” I replied, “You could just use my name, like a normal person.”

Reyn grinned. “I think I’m going to use it more because now I know it pisses you off.”

“So are you ever going to teach me magic?” I asked. “Or should I just leave?”

“All in due time.” Reyn responded serenely. “We’re going to start with some background.”

“Horray,” I said, “ _learning_.”

Reyn grinned and nodded.

We’re going to start with basics.” She said. “Magic is divided into two categories: defensive and offensive. Offensive magic is further divided into several different sections; I call them aspects. You have Earth,” She ticked them off on her fingers, “Water, and Fire.”

I sat up, intrigued. “Where does it all come from? Magic, I mean.”

Reyn walked over and sat in front of me. “Well, legend has it that when the world was young, there existed three beings of infinite power—gods, for all intents and purposes. There was the God of Fire, of Water, and of Earth. But the God of Earth was greedy. He wanted the power of his brothers. So blah blah blah, the God of Earth tried to take the power of his brothers, and the sacrificed themselves to kill him. It’s all very similar to every fairytale you’ll hear about the origin of magic.”

“So no one knows?” I asked.

Reyn shook her head. “No. No one knows.”

“So, you mentioned aspects?”

“Yes,” Reyn said, a small smile ghosting across her face, “Anyone with magical power is stuck with one aspect, usually dictated by their personality. For instance, my aspect is fire. It’s very temperamental, hard to master, and it’ll hurt you if you use it wrong. Sound familiar? Anyways, It’s very possible to master more than one aspect, but it takes more than a lifetime to master an aspect besides your own.”

A memory came to the front of my mind of Reyn encasing my feet in stone. “Hold on, but you used magic to trap my feet. When we were sparring.”

Reyn hesitated. “A parlor trick. Pretty much the extent of what I can do with Earth magic.”

I could feel the lie in her voice, but I decided not to push it.

“So how do I use it?” I asked.

“Luckily we don’t have to do any digging for your aspect.” Reyn smiled. “Remember when you thought you were hallucinating that your arms were on fire? All real.”

I paled immediately. “I lit my arms on fire?”

Reyn laughed. “Yeah, but thankfully those of us aligned with fire are gifted with an above average resistance to heat. You can’t stick your hand in lava, but you could, say, run through a burning building and come out relatively unscathed.” She thought for a moment. “Don’t…run through a burning building though, please?”

Her expression of genuine concern had me laughing again.

“But we’re getting off topic again. You want to know how to actually use magic?”

I nodded, and Reyn smiled.

\---

After four hours, I could light a small fire in my palm. It was cool the first time, but after the fortieth or fiftieth time it got kind of dull. It didn’t help that it seemed to want to stay in my palm; when I tried to make it move it would wink out of existence, and when I tried to make it bigger or smaller I would lose control and the same thing would happen.

After the fifty-fifth—by my very much unbiased estimate—time conjuring the fire in my palm, it burnt my fingertips and I growled in frustration.

Reyn laughed from her position leant against the wall. “I told you it would hurt you if you used it wrong.”

I threw my hands up. “I’m _doing it_ just like you told me.” I hissed.

“No you aren’t.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No.” Reyn responded. “You aren’t. If I had to guess, you’re using solely your emotions to force it to do what you want.”

“You _told_ me to use my emotions.”

“ _Yes_. But I also told you to let it come naturally. You can’t force a fire to burn higher, you have to _let it_.”

I tried lighting the fire again, but only sparks would come this time. I nearly screamed in frustration, and I felt angry and embarrassed tears gather in my eyes. I dug the heel of my palm into my eyes and turned away from Reyn, repressing the urge to sniffle.

I heard Reyn sigh, and I jumped when I felt a hand on my shoulder.

“I’m sorry.” Reyn said, dragging a hand down her face. “I know this isn’t easy. It should be but it isn’t and that is _my fault_.”

I turned around to face Reyn. “No, it’s not. I’m just… _bad_. Bad at this. Bad at all of it.”

“You really aren’t.” Reyn replied. “Turn around and close your eyes, I want to try something.”

I did as she asked, and I felt both of her hands on my shoulders. The precious few inches of height Reyn had over me allowed her to almost literally breathe down my neck.

I felt Reyn’s voice against my ear. “Now put your arm up, like you’re going to summon fire, but don’t do it yet.”

“Alright Fi,” Reyn said after I had put my hand up, “I want you to focus on a memory. It should be of an extreme emotion, but I find extreme joy or anger works best. _And_ it is very important that you focus your mind around it and tune everything else out.”

I imagined the happiest memory I had: ten-year-old Han smuggling bread to eight-year-old me. It had sparked our friendship. The first real friendship I had ever had.

“I have it.” I said after a moment.

“Good,” Reyn said, “Now take that emotion, and light the fire _with it_.”

I concentrated on the happiness, letting it envelop my mind, until everything fell away—the room, Reyn, even myself.

I felt heat above my palm and almost opened my eyes, but Reyn stopped me.

“Don’t open your eyes yet.”

I nodded and concentrated back on the fire.

“Now make it so big that it burns the ceiling.” Reyn said.

I tried to find the joke in her tone, but I couldn’t, so I focused and imagined the flame burning the stone ceiling.

After a long silence Reyn whispered so softly I wasn’t sure I had heard her, “Open your eyes.”

I opened my eyes to a swirling column of fire originating from my hand.

It was beautiful.

Shades of red and yellow and gold spiraled around each other, mingling in the center and exploding back outwards. It reached up to the ceiling and I could already see it scorching the stone. I realized I had been crying. Wondrous tears making their way down my face.

Reyn took her hands off of my shoulder and maneuvered in front of me. She took the fire from my palm and it shrunk until it was just a wisp. Then she braced a hand on my shoulder and pressed the wisp into my chest.

It didn’t burn, and it seemed to disappear. But it felt…warm. Pleasantly warm. Like the first rays of the Sun after a cold night, or what I assumed the love of a parent would feel like.

Reyn was staring expectantly at me. “How do you feel?”

“I…what did you do with it at the end?”

Reyn hesitated again, and I could see subtle tells in her gray eyes when she spoke.

“Nothing. It was nothing, just an old trick I learned.” She laughed awkwardly. “But how do you feel?”

“ _Fantastic!_ ” I said enthusiastically. “I don’t have words to describe how amazing that was.”

Reyn grinned. “That was my reaction too…when I first learned. Now,” she said, “You don’t have infinite energy, so your magic will eventually fatigue you. But keep trying new things.”

I nodded and she smiled again. “Just try not to burn the mountain down while you’re at it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Writing a hard magic system is hard. I kind of spliced mine together from elements of Avatar: The Last Air Bender and Christopher Paolini's Eragon with a little bit of Zelazny's Chronicles of Amber sprinkled on top. I need to come up with actual handicaps for it but it works OK so far.  
> That thing that Reyn did with the fire is important but not for a while so bear with me. The next chapter needs to be written but I have a rough idea in my head.


	5. The Horns of War

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So we're about done with the first part of the story, and the next parts are really my favorite. This chapter is a bit longer, so I hope you enjoy!

Reyn no longer held back her strength when we sparred, which meant I experienced the full force of all of her strikes. When she first stopped holding back, I had spent more time on the ground then standing up.

And it had hurt, and I had cuts I was sure would scar and week-old bruises that had yet to disappear.

But now I could take most of her attacks and stay standing, which is probably why she had started to go all out with her magic too. In addition to a sword and daggers she seemed to produce from nowhere, I had to dodge fireballs and even the occasional hand of dirt that would reach up to grasp my ankles.

Reyn threw another fireball at me, which I very narrowly escaped. “You need to learn to anticipate my attacks!” She threw another, and I felt air across my back as it roared past me.

“How?!” I yelled to her from across the yard. “How am I supposed to anticipate your attacks?”

Instead of a response, more fire came. This time I caught it and flung it back as hard as I could at her.

“Good!” She said, looking slightly smug. “Now look me in the eyes. If you know what to look for, the eyes will tell you everything you need to know.”

I looked at her steely gray eyes, waiting for some clue as to what she was about to do. I watched as her eyes darted to the right. It seemed subconscious, and it was almost imperceptible, but thankfully my elvish heritage let me see closer. She went right and I followed her, swinging my sword in an attempt to catch her off guard.

It worked, and she stumbled in her effort to block me. I struck out again, but she had recovered, and she did a fancy move I had never seen before, disarming me. My sword flew ten feet and made a cloud of dust where it landed.

It was too far away, so I decided to improvise. Before Reyn could bring up her sword and tell me to yield, I ducked low and tackled Reyn, wrapping my arms around her slender waist.

We fell to the ground in a heap, and I felt the air get knocked out of Reyn as she hit the ground. She had voluntarily let go of her sword, and I kicked it away before I scrambled up and straddled Reyn’s hips.

“Yield.” I said faux-seriously, pinning her arms when she tried to shake me off.

Laughter spilled out of Reyn, chuckles I could feel bouncing around her stomach.

“Fine,” she said between chuckles, “I yield.”

I rocked back, releasing Reyn’s arms to pump my fists up in the air. “Ha!” I said, looking back down at Reyn. “Bet not a lot of people can say they beat,” I cleared my throat and spoke in a loud voice, “Reyn, **_Lord-Commander_** of The Veil.”

Reyn laughed again, and her eyes danced with an emotion I still couldn’t place. She brought one of her hands up and tucked a stray strand of hair behind my ear, letting her callused hand linger for a moment before she let it fall back to the ground.

I felt my face heat up, and she spoke quickly. “Sorry, it was driving me crazy…I enjoy symmetry.”

“Yeah…” I replied, laughing uneasily.

The both of us were silent for a long time and we both stared. I stared into Reyn’s gray eyes, noticing for the first time a ring of gold that surrounded both of her pupils, which were currently blown wide.

I tried not to read too much into that.

I spoke, finally breaking the silence. “Reyn, I—“

“Wait,” Reyn interrupted, shushing me, “Do you hear that?”

I sighed. “Hear what?”

“Listen.” She replied.

So I did listen, and off in the distance, I heard horns. And I knew they were horns of war, even though I had never been in war. I could hear the thud of a hundred thousand feet against the ground beating in tandem with ominous war drums.

“Is that—“

“—War horns.” Reyn finished.

I realized I was still sitting on top of Reyn, and I hurriedly stood up, offering Reyn a hand. She took it and I saw another emotion written subtly across her face—disappointment.

But she was running before she had even full stood up, her hand tearing itself out of mine. I bolted after her, sprinting as fast as I could.

“Reyn!” I shouted. “What is it? Are we being invaded?”

She skidded to a stop in front of an open doorway and I nearly slammed into her. I bent down and gulped air down as fast as I could.

Cain was silhouetted in the doorway, and his face was growing more horrified with every word Reyn said. He nodded and Reyn seemed satisfied, sprinting off and disappearing around a corner. I couldn’t even fathom trying to catch up to her, so I turned to Cain.

“What’s happening? Reyn and I were sparring and we heard—“

“—War horns.” Cain finished. “It’s the East—Eastern pirates.”

I paled. “ _Pirates?!_ Why are they coming here?”

“It’s hard to explain,” Cain said, “The parts of Caelus that the Lord Regent reigns over are…at war with the East, technically speaking—Cold War. There’s been no direct conflict but…I don’t think that’s going to be true after today.”

I shook my head in confusion but Cain took my hand and pulled me back towards the yard. “We need to get every horse saddled and ready to ride. Reyn’s gone to tell everyone else.”

“Why?” I asked as we stepped out into the yard, “Are we going to fight?”

Cain laughed. “Fight? There is an army bearing down on us.” He took me by the shoulders and turned me to face him. “There are _fifty_ of us. They would slaughter us all and bathe in our blood! There is no fighting! We need to run.”

He let me go and we both hurried into the stables; a large wooden shack constructed near the gates leading out of the yard. Inside it smelled of horses and sweat and leather, and Cain and I set to work methodically saddling every single horse we could find. There were at least thirty horses, and by the time we finished the both of us were sweaty and sore.

I could hear the horns clearly now, as well as the marching.

“Cain,” I said nervously, “the horns are closer. _Where_ are we going to run to?”

“The capitol.” Cain replied, cinching the strap of a saddle tight. He turned to me. “Ask me questions later! We don’t have time now. Call your dragon.”

“Why?”

Cain looked bewildered. “What do you think you’re going to be riding to the capitol?”

The truth was I had kind of forgotten that I had a dragon, but at least someone remembered. I reached across the link I had to Grayswandir, my dragon. I sent her images of my best approximation of what was approaching.

I didn’t have to try very hard; a moment later the ground shook. I ran outside of the shack to see my beautiful black dragon surrounded by a cloud of dust. She looked at me quizzically and I shrugged. A moment later Thorn glided into the yard and landed with apparently more grace then Grayswandir could manage. Reyn emerged from inside the mountain next, followed by the entirety of the Veil. I could already hear her shouting orders.

“Everyone on a horse! Ride like death is following us! Don’t wait, just go!”

She sprinted to Thorn and vaulted into the saddle on his back. I followed suit, but with much less sprinting and vaulting and more running and scrambling.

Reyn turned to me. “Both of us need to go first and scout ahead! If we’re lucky, they aren’t close enough to attack yet.”

I saw the muscles in Thorn’s legs tense, and then he launched himself into the air. I patted Grayswandir on the neck and she followed suit.

\---

The East had catapults.

And arrows, but catapults were worse for Reyn and I. The Easterners were spread out in a massive blob that continued beyond the horizon and continued about half a mile in each direction.

The moment we had come into view, a hail of arrows had been launched at Reyn and I. Miraculously none of them managed to hit either of us. I later found that it was no miracle as I saw an actual javelin hit Reyn and fly off in the opposite direction, which made me suspect magic.

Reyn and I had done our best to shield the people on horseback, but every time we got close, boulders flew towards us at high speed, forcing us to move away. I knew that at least a third of the fifty people on horses had been struck by arrows, or crushed by rocks. It made me sick to my stomach.

I opened my mouth to shout to Reyn, but when I didn’t get a response I looked over, and my blood chilled.

Reyn was slumped against Thorn, bristling with the shafts of arrows. _So many_ arrows. I could see blood soaking through her clothes, running down the arm that hung freely and becoming lost to the air. But she was still awake, awake and fighting. As I watched, she extended a hand towards the line of Easterners and a moment later, great pillars of fire sprung up across the entire line of soldiers.

Thorn followed suit and swooped in low, breathing a jet of white-hot flame on to the unsuspecting soldiers. Grayswandir couldn’t breathe fire yet but I suspected she wanted to help. I patted her neck in sympathy before I gathered fire in my hand, flinging it down on to the Easterners.

We continued trying to push back until the Easterners finally faded out of view. I slumped against Grayswandir, utterly exhausted. I looked over at Reyn, who was in a similar state, but she managed to meet my eyes and smile weakly.

\---

It was dark when we reached the capitol two days later. We hadn’t stopped once, and seeing the glow of ten thousand fires and torches lighting up the sky miles away made all of us that were still alive collectively sigh in relief.

It had taken us two days of heavy riding to reach the capitol, and none of twenty or so of us that had survived had eaten or slept during the ride. The only talking that had happened were shouted orders. But we finally slowed down once the city gates came into view, and Reyn and I descended from the air. We looked like the most haggard procession I had ever seen and I would’ve grimaced if I wasn’t so tired.

Reyn took the spot near the front, and the rest of us matched Thorn’s slow walking pace. Grayswandir instinctively walked next to Thorn and I looked over at Reyn, who probably looked the worst. She had torn out most of the arrows, and she looked horrible. I spoke for the first time in two days and voice my thoughts.

“You look horrible.”

Reyn groaned weakly and tried to move from her position slumped against Thorn’s neck, ceasing her efforts after a moment.

“You’re no spring chicken yourself, Fi.”

The old timey saying coupled with her accent made me giggle, and she smiled.

“I hate to break it to you Lord-Commander,” said a voice next to us, “but Fiona is right. You look like shit.”

I turned to see a sight that put a smile on my face.

Cain definitely looked worse for wear. His hair was shaggy and his beard untrimmed, but he smiled like he’d had enough sleep.

Reyn laughed weakly, which turned into a cough. “Remind me to whoop your ass the next time we spar.”

“It doesn’t look like you’ll be sparring anytime soon, Reyn.” He shrugged. “But I’m up for it whenever you are.”

I laughed at their conversation. “You know,” I said conspiratorially to Cain, “I might finally be able to beat Reyn now that she’s hurt.”

“Wow,” Reyn said, “that’s real nice of you two. Gang up on the injured girl.”

The high arch of the city gate passed over head and I felt a rush of nostalgia. This was the city I had spent most of my nineteen-year life in.

My thoughts drifted to Han, the person I thought of as my brother, my longest-standing friend. I would have to go see him, but not before I slept for a week straight.

People had come out of building to watch us pass, but everything was eerily quiet. The palace was a shining beacon in the distance, but I didn’t think I could stand the quiet for that long. And I couldn’t tell what the people thought of us, with their unreadable faces, so i just focused on the palace in the distance.

When we finally reached it, most of the survivors slid off their horses. Some of them fell, but some managed to stay upright. I didn’t dismount Grayswandir because I was afraid I would fall, like I had the first time I rode Thorn. It seemed Reyn had the same idea, as did Cain.

After an indeterminate amount of time, the doors of the palace swung open to reveal a lone figure. They carried a torch and hurried towards us. Reyn slid off of Thorn to meet them and was caught up in a massive bear hug, and I could see her wince. I could see now that the figure was male and broad-shouldered, and he had an inch or two on Reyn. He had long, curly black hair swept behind his ears, and he was wearing a fine linen coat colored crimson. I slid off of Grayswandir to go to Reyn and Cain followed suit.

The stranger had finally released Reyn, and they were conversing in hushed tones.

“Not that I don’t appreciate the visit,” The stranger said in a high, lightly accented voice, “But why are you all here looking like you just rode for days.”

The stranger looked familiar, but I couldn’t place where I knew him from.

“Because we did.” Reyn said in a hoarse voice. “It was the East, Will. They took us by surprise. If we’d have stayed in the mountains we would’ve been slaughtered. Even with the head start…we lost _more_ than thirty on our way.”

“The East? Are you sure?”

“I know what I saw. I even kept one of the arrows they put in me during the skirmish.”

Reyn produced one of the arrows I had seen poking out of her after the battle. There was still a bit of her blood smeared on the arrowhead.

The stranger, Will, scrutinized the arrow. “There’s no doubt.” He shook his head. “This means war. If the Caliphs think I’ll sit idly by while they kill my people, then I’ll show them.”

He gave Reyn another hug, which she returned. “I’m glad you’re alive, rain cloud.”

“You call me that again and I’ll cut your balls off.” Reyn replied, laughing.

They released each other, and Reyn turned to Cain and I.

“You already know Cain, and this is Fiona. That black dragon is hers.”

Will laughed. “Actually we’ve met. I was the one who sent Fiona to you, Reyn.”

My eyes widened comically large, and Will laughed again. “Lord-Regent Will Axel,” he bowed, “At your service.”

He stuck out a hand and I shook it. I couldn’t believe my eyes. Here I was shaking hands with one of the most powerful people in the world. He grinned and pulled me into a bear hug, and I found that the Lord-Regent was a very huggable person.

He let me go and turned to Cain, giving him what I noticed was a much more intimate hug, longer-lasting too. I made a mental note to tease Cain about it later.

Will released Cain and turned to the rest of us. “You must all be tired. My steward will show you to one of the empty wings of the palace.” He turned back to Reyn, Cain, and I. “Lord-Commander, I’d like you to speak on the details of your skirmish with the East. Ser Cain,” a smile ghosted over his lips, “once you’re situated I’d like to see you as well.”

I turned to see Cain trying to hide a smile, and I elbowed him, earning myself a glare. All of us, minus Reyn, shambled into the palace and let a steward lead us. I swayed and almost fell, but Cain put my arm over his shoulders and took my weight.

“So,” I said, “you and the Lord-Regent?”

Cain choked and coughed, “W-What?”

“You and Will. You don’t have to deflect; it’s not like I’m going to tell anyone.”

Cain sighed, “I could ask the same of you concerning Reyn.”

“Ha ha.” I replied. “That’s not—it’s not—fine, okay. So I have a crush. What of it?”

“You should tell her.” Cain said, shifting my weight to a wall in front of an empty room. “Who knows, she’ll probably say yes. That girl likes her girls.” He walked a short distance down the hall before turning back to me. “Think about it.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notes on distances from the Veil to the capitol: two days by horse if you don't stop for anything, one day-a half day by dragon.  
> Punctuation was kind of all over the place, but meh.  
> If anyone gets what the name Grayswandir is a reference to you win a prize  
> I kept spelling sword as sord and I could only think of this: https://www.homestuck.com/story/1827


	6. A date that totally isn't a date

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Part two in Fiona’s guide to not reading too deeply into things

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is set one week after the previous one. Also, some might notice a stylistic change in the writing about three-thousand words in. The reason for this is that i'm stupid and wrote everything past that point a while ago and just now wrote the beginning.

I had never been in a room as plush as the one I was in now. It had a large, four-poster bed with the blankets and pillows made of the finest fabrics I had ever felt. But the bathroom.

The bathroom.

It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen. It was bigger than my entire room at the Veil…and it was all mine. I felt a perverse sense of glee at the prospect of having a room this big all to myself, and then I felt guilty because I knew there were still people living piss-poor in the slums of the city, despite the efforts of the Lord-Regent. But I pushed the thoughts out of my head. It didn’t help to agonize about things I couldn’t change.

I suddenly thought of what Han had asked me the last time I had been in the capitol. To come and find him if I was ever in the capitol again. So that’s what I decided to do.

I pushed myself off of the bed and made my way over to the mostly empty wardrobe pushed against one wall of the room, pulling out a maroon tunic and an amber undershirt and leggings. The tunic had a hawk stitched elaborately into it in silver thread. All of the members of the Veil had been made provisional members of the City Guard on the orders of the Lord-Regent until he and Reyn could figure out what to do with all of us. I didn’t exactly mind though, it gave me free range of movement and the ability to legally carry weapons at the cost of wearing the uniform.

I decided to take my sword along with me, belting it around my waist along with a few small daggers I had pilfered from the palace armory. I paused when I saw the sliver ring that still sat on my finger. I still felt disgusted that it had come from someone who I had helped kill, but it made me feel…connected to Reyn in a way I couldn’t describe.

Sufficiently outfitted, I exited my room into the hall, groaning when someone called my name.

I turned, and all the annoyance I felt at the idea of dealing with anyone vanished when I saw it was Reyn. I blinked. She was wearing the same uniform I was except for a short maroon drop cape attached to her waist that stopped a few inches above her knee, with three silver lines running down it marking her as our leader.

“Hey.”

“Hi.” She replied, leaning against a wall and crossing her arms. “Where are you going?”

“Oh,” I said, a little surprised at her curiosity, “I have a friend in the capitol…a blacksmith. I would say he’s my best friend, but for a while, he was my only friend.” I rubbed the back of my neck. “He made me promise to come and see him. I also wanted to snoop around the higher-class parts of the city because I never got to see them, you know,” I grinned crookedly, “growing up piss-poor in a slum and all.”

Reyn smiled. “Sounds like a fun time. Here’s something that might interest you.”

She produced a small bag from her belt and threw it to me. It jangled as it landed in my hand and a look inside revealed a large pile of gold coins. More money than I had ever seen.

_Holy fuck what?_

I looked quizzically at Reyn and she shrugged. “I may have taken that from Will’s desk, fair warning.”

“You stole from the Lord-Regent?!” I asked, voice alarmed.

“If we’re being honest it isn’t the first thing I’ve stolen from him. We’ve been friends since we were kids, plus its mutual thievery. And if it makes you feel any better, it was a bribe from one of the senators.”

“Oh.” I replied. “That _does_ make me feel a little better.”

“It should be enough to buy you something interesting…or food and beer. I would personally go with food and beer,” she shrugged, “But I do enjoy beer more than material goods.”

Suddenly I had an idea.

“Come with me then. I don’t really like beer, but I do enjoy expensive food that I’m not directly paying for.”

Reyn was momentarily speechless. Her mouth was hanging open in a comical fashion and it took a while for her to respond. “I—uh—I have…things—“

“No you don’t.” I cut in. “That’s why you’re taking to me right now instead of _things_.”

I grabbed her hand and pulled her down the hall. “Come on! Let’s go have some fun.”

Reyn protested quietly, but she didn’t remove her hand from mine. If anything, it felt like she gripped my hand tighter.

I tried not to read too deeply into it.

\---

When we finally left the palace we switched places, and Reyn led me through the maze of streets crisscrossing the capitol. Her walk seemed experienced and effortless, like she had done it a thousand times.

“So,” I asked, “Did you grow up here?”

“…Sort of,” Reyn replied after a moment, “I was actually born much further North. My father met my mother on a trip to the Mirror Havens. He insisted that I be born in his home and that I be raised there. But we had to move to the capitol when I was about five.”

“Why?”

She shrugged. “It doesn’t matter; he and my mother are both gone. But enough about my depressing past, you said _you_ grew up in the capitol. Did you ever see the Mirror Havens?”

Reyn’s attempt to deflect was obvious, yet I couldn’t help but feel for her. I could almost empathize, with my probably-dead parents, but I had never known them, so I had nothing to mourn. Still, I gripped her hand tighter trying to convey some sort of silent comfort and responded to her question.

“No,” I said, “I’ve never seen the Havens. I never knew my parents either. Both of them probably died in some gutter.”

“Well, at least we have something in common. Orphan buddies.” Reyn said, pumping a fist weakly in the air.

I laughed at Reyn’s morbid attempt at humor to lighten the mood.

“It was glorious,” Reyn said, “It’s…it’s one of the most beautiful places I’ve seen.”

I couldn’t see her face, but I could hear the wonder in Reyn’s voice.

“Tell me about it.”

I could feel Reyn’s smile when she spoke. “It’s indescribable. Imagine a massive forest beyond the mountains, as far north as you can go, with trees as old as time stretching up to touch the sky. And in the center, the great city of the elves. It stood for a hundred thousand years, populated by timeless people, like statues standing amongst the rapids of time. Never cruel, always just, _always_ watching.” She sighed, “It was beautiful.”

We finally reached where Reyn had been leading me, a large white building. A sign with the image of a piece of meat burnt into it was hung above the door. Reyn pulled me towards the door eagerly.

“This is my favorite place to eat in the capitol.” Reyn said as we walked through the door, “Not too prissy, but not seedy like most other places.”

A man in fancy clothes seemed to appear in front of Reyn and I, and he spoke in a high, lilting accent.

“Good morning! What may I do for you two fine young ladies?”

It seemed like he was talking to me and I froze for a moment, but Reyn let go of my hand and stepped in to save me.

“We need a table and, let’s say, a pitcher of beer to start.”

“Very good.” The man responded. “You can have your pick of tables.” He gestured around the building at empty tables.

Reyn grabbed my hand again and led me to a secluded table in the corner of the room. Soon after that another man brought us a large glass pitcher of amber liquid and a mug. Reyn filled the mug and drained it in one long swallow, then filled it again and set it on the table, sipping it at random.

“Wait,” I said, “when you talked about the Mirror Havens you talked in past tense.” I frowned. “Did something happen to the elves?”

Reyn sighed, taking another gulp of beer before setting the mug down. “Something did. About fifty years ago, every traveler found themselves turned away from the Havens. The forests became impassable, and ships found the surrounding seas filled with rocks and maelstroms and pockets of enchantment. I made a very pointless journey there five years ago. Of course, there are still elves hidden places. And you.”

The way she said “and you” made me feel butterflies in my stomach, and I was glad for the distraction of a plate of meat, bread, and cheese being brought to the table.

Reyn cleared her throat. “So what’s your friend like?”

“Ah,” happy for the change of subject, I spoke eagerly, “he’s nice. He doesn’t look much like a blacksmith; he’s super tall and skinny. But it’s kind of a trick. I’ve seen him lift more than a grown man. He’s young too, only two years older than me. I’ve known him since I was eight.”

“How did you two meet?” Reyn asked.

“He’s always been kind; sometimes I think _too_ kind, no matter how hard his father tried to beat it out of him. I was starving, covered in dirt, no money. I was curled up on the street outside of his house. I heard loud noises inside and a moment later a boy came through the door. He didn’t even know me, but after a minute he held out a piece of bread.” I laughed softly. “I turned up a few more times and we started talking. He wished his father was gone, and my parents actually were. We found a odd sort of kinship. When his father eventually died and he took control of their business, he gave a bed and food when I really needed it. At this point he’s pretty much my brother.”

“Wow.” Reyn said, taking another drink. “You’re right. He is too nice.”

I nodded. “He was the first person that I…that I told I liked girls.”

Reyn choked on the beer and slammed the mug down on the table, coughing into her arm.

I was too absorbed in the memory to notice. “He was so happy. In his mind girls were just one more thing we had in common.”

Reyn had recovered and said something. I still wasn’t paying attention, so I refocused on her. “What?”

“I said, ‘My parents were the first people I told’.”

“Told what?” I asked.

Reyn rolled her eyes. “Context clues, Fi. They’re the first people I told I was,” She cleared her throat, “basket shopping.” She frowned at my bewildered expression. “Pillow biting?”

I shook my head.

“Gay, Fi. They’re the first people I told I was gay.”

This time I choked. Reyn fell into a fit of laughter and I fixed her with my most withering glare, which only made her laugh harder.

“Oh.” I said. “That’s…good to know.”

_Good to know? Really? Smooth, Fiona. Reeeeal smooth._

“Do you want to meet him?” I asked before awkward silence could envelop us.

Reyn let out a low ‘heh’ and looked up at me. “I would love to.”

\---

“The trick is,” I said, shouting over the hammer blows resonating from inside Han’s shop, “to just have to hit the door as hard as you can.”

Reyn looked just the slightest bit uneasy. “If I hit that door as hard as I can it’s going to break.”

“Not to down play your strength,” I looked her up and down, “But you’re…kinda skinny. I just—the door’s made of solid metal. I don’t see how you could _break_ it.”

Reyn narrowed her eyes at me. “You wound me. And I feel like you just challenged me.”

Before I could say respond Reyn was backing up to the opposite side of the street.

“Reyn, no.” I shouted as she started to run.

“Reyn yes.” She responded back, reaching the door and slamming her fist into it.

A very, _very_ loud noise echoed throughout the street, and my eyes widened as crack spread from Reyn’s fist, until the door collapsed. She turned back to me and grinned smugly.

“Told ya.”

I just gestured to the broken remains of the door with what was probably a disgusted expression.

Reyn flashed me a smile, baring her teeth. “You’re cute when you’re disgusted with me.”

“Excuse me,” a voice cut in before I could respond, “But did either of you see what happened to my door?”

A figure appeared behind Reyn in the doorway: it was Han. I noted that he was an slightly taller than Reyn.

“Han!” I said. “It’s me!”

He turned to me and looked me up and down, scrutinizing me for a moment before recognition flickered in his eyes.

He wrapped me up in a bone-crushing hug. “It’s so good to see you Fiona!”

He held me for a moment longer before he let go and pulled back. “ _What_ in the name of sanity are you wearing?”

I looked down at the uniform, inwardly cringing.

“I told you I got a job, didn’t I?”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “But in The Veil, not the Guard.”

I cringed again. “It’s a long story. Mind if we come in?”

“If I wasn’t so happy to see you I’d punch you for asking such a stupid question. And who’s this?” he gestured to Reyn.

“Oh. This…this is my boss.“

“Reyn.” Reyn introduced herself. “Lord-Commander of The Veil and,” she glanced down at the insignia on the drop cape, “Lieutenant of the City Guard.”

She held out a hand and Han shook it. They locked eyes and stayed deathly still for a few tense moments until Han finally smiled and let go.

“Let’s talk inside.” He said, and walked through the remains of his door.

\---

“So,” Han said as we all sat at a large wooden table in one of the rooms of his house, “Are you keeping my sister out of fights?”

Without hesitation Reyn responded back, “Only the ones she doesn’t start.”

Han nodded, “That sounds like her.”

“Wow thanks for the familial support _brother_.”

“I’m just presenting the facts, _dear sister_.”

“I don’t have to take this from you.” I said, moving to stand up.

He laughed and held up his hands in defense. “Okay, drama queen, you’ve made your point. I apologize.”

Reyn stood abruptly. “I think you two have some private stuff you need to talk about.” She looked pointedly at me. “I’m gonna go outside and smoke. Come get me when you’re done.”

After that, she left, and I listened to her footsteps recede before I turned back to Han. He was looking at me with a very confused expression.

“What was she talking about?” He said. When I didn’t respond he sighed deeply. “Fiona, you know I don’t call you my sister just for laughs, right? You can tell me anything.”

“Okay.” I said. “Okay. It’s going to take a while.”

“I’ve got a while.” Han said, sitting back. “Lay it on me sis.”

So I told him. I told him everything. From the dragon to the regicide to the Blackleaf, I told it all.

I even told him about my feelings towards Reyn.

When I finally finished, Han had a contemplative look of all things on his face.

Finally he spoke, “I will admit…your boss is very nice looking.”

“Right?” I responded.

_Isn’t she though?_

“From what you’ve told me it seems like you two have a connection.”

“a ‘connection’,” I ran a hand through my hair, “It’s…she’s like a walking oxymoron. One minute she’s laughing and joking and the next she’s closed off and cold.”

“Aww,” Han said, “my little sister is in _looove_.”

I swatted him on the shoulder. “I’m not in love. I just…I have a crush.”

“It’s funny how you think denying it helps you.” He studied my face for a second. “You see! You’re blushing, you can’t hide it!”

“Fuck you.” I replied, laughing.

“You should probably go grab Reyn from outside. She’s probably getting bored.”

I stood up and exited the house part of Han’s shop. In the street outside, there was no sign of Reyn. I looked up and down, checked a few alleys, and tried calling her name a few times. She was gone.

_Did she hear us?_

I raced back inside. Han looked up, concern filling his features as he took in my expression.

“She’s gone.”

“Where?”

“I don’t know!” I yelled.

I took a few shuddering breaths to calm myself. It didn’t work.

“I’m sorry.” I said, backing out of the room. “I need to go talk to someone.”

“Who?”

“The Lord-Regent.” I said nonchalantly.

\---

“Will.”

Will looked up from his desk and squinted at me, shielding his eyes from the light flowing in from the hallway. His coat was thrown over a chair near the unlit fireplace, and his fine linen shirt had a spot of ink on it. Papers were strewn across his desk, along with multiple empty ink bottles. He blinked a few times before recognition flared in his eyes.

“Fiona!” he tried to stifle a yawn. “What are you doing here?”

“I could ask you the same question.” I sighed. “Do you have any idea how late it is?”

He seemed to ponder for a moment. “No, but the fact that it’s dark outside my window should probably tell me something.”

“Why are you still working then?”

“Because everything is going to shit!” Will blurted out. “The clans in the east are getting bolder. They’ve begun attacking villages and holdfasts near their border. I’ve even gotten word from Reece of House Woods that some of them even sailed west and are trying to _burn_ the marshes. House Woods also called in a few favors I owed them. So I get to organize and pay for military. Everything’s fucked! A few smaller houses are even scheming to remove me from power. Corruption is rife in court.” He looked down at one of the sheets of paper on his desk. It had a handprint inked into it.

He held it up and I smiled. “I don’t even remember when I did this.” He let the paper fall back to the desk and sighed. “I’m sorry; we don’t even know each other that well. I shouldn’t be venting to you. But what brings you to hell—I mean my study?”

I shifted from foot to foot, suddenly embarrassed, and my words caught in my throat.

Will smiled. “It’s about Reyn, isn’t it?”

My shoulders slumped, and I fell into the chair in front of Will’s desk.

“That girl. What did she do this time?”

“It’s more what I did,” I sighed, “Her, my brother, and I were talking about things and she just… _left_.”

“What did you do?”

“I _don’t know_.” I put my head in my hands. “She went outside to smoke and just vanished, and I…I can’t find her _anywhere_ , and I don’t know what to do.”

I heard a chuckle and I looked up at Will. He was laughing and smiling.

“What makes you think this is funny?” I asked him angrily.

“It’s not.” He chuckled again. “But I had no idea that Reyn was still this predictable. I know where she is.”

“Where?” I asked, trying and failing to hide my eagerness.

“You lived in the pits for most of your life, right?” I nodded. “What’s the seediest tavern you know of?”

“They’re _all_ seedy” I replied, “but it would have to be The Wilted Rose.”

He nodded. “That’s where you’ll find her.”

I stood up and walked away, making it to the door before Will called out.

He was sitting forward in his chair. “I know Reyn tries to act all tough and broody a lot the time but she’s kind-hearted and easily hurt. She needs someone to care about her.” He sat back. “Just keep that in mind. Alright?”

I nodded and left his study.

\---

I straightened my sword as I strode towards the south end of the pits. The Wilted Rose was in an especially dangerous part of the slums, so I had buckled my sword onto my waist, and even with the heavy cloak I was wearing, it was in full view.

I looked back down the street. Will had ordered two of his men to help me, and they were sufficiently far back and hidden. I turned back to the tavern and stared at it. A small, two-story, run-down building with most of its windows broken or empty. The sounds of laughter and glasses clinking together floated out of its door, and as I looked, a man flew through one of the open windows and landed in a puff of dirt. Before I could even move to check if he was alright, he began snoring loudly.

Once I was inside, I spotted Reyn easily. She was at a table alone in a corner, facing slightly away from the door, with a mountain of mugs and glasses in front of her. As I watched, she downed a pitcher of amber liquid with frightening speed. When it was empty she slammed it down on the table and grabbed another from a passing serving girl. I walked up behind her and put a hand on her shoulder.

Reyn whipped around sluggishly and looked me up and down. Her cheeks were red from the alcohol, and she was swaying slightly from side to side. When she finally met my eyes I could see that hers were red and puffy. She had been crying.

She took a breath. “I’m not done.” She slurred.

“Oh yes you are.” I replied. I grabbed her arm to pull her up but she pulled out of my grip.

“I’m not done.” She said again, reaching for the half-drained pitcher of beer.

I grabbed it before she could get it and drained the last of it. I almost threw up as I felt it running down my throat, but I choked it down and wiped my mouth.

I grabbed hold of her arm again and pulled her up.

“Now you’re done.” I said.

I put one of her arms over my shoulder and helped her out of the tavern and down the street.

Her head fell against my shoulder and she mumbled something.

“What was that?” I asked.

She stayed silent, and I rolled my eyes.

“Look” I said, “Whatever I did, I’m sorry, if it was even something I did.”

I sighed when she still refused to talk.

“Fine then!” I huffed. “Be angry and pout.”

Reyn lifted her head off of my shoulder, but whatever she was about to say was cut off by her stumbling and falling to her knees. I crouched down and put a hand on her upper back.

I felt the muscles in her back tense, and then she retched and vomited in the street. I smiled at the small dose of karma.

“You shouldn’t have had so much-” I trailed off as I saw the moonlight reflect off of the pool of vomit. In the low light, the pool of it was a dark red, almost black.

It was blood.

Reyn coughed and spat. She struggled to her knees and whipped her head around

“What are you looking for?” I asked. “And why did you just vomit blood? Are you alright?”

Reyn’s fists were clenched and when she spoke it was through gritted teeth.

“ _Thorn._ ” She bit out.

Before I could ask why, the ground shook, and I turned to see Thorn resplendent in the middle of the street.

Reyn brushed past me and practically jumped on to Thorn, strapping her legs to the saddle and giving his neck a pat. I tried to reach out to Thorn mentally, but when I touched his mind, a wave of rage nearly knocked me over. I fell back and Thorn lifted into the air. He ascended and seemed to hang in the air before a crack filled the air and he was gone in a grey blur. I felt Thorn’s mind touch mine, and one image permeated my mind before he severed the connection.

A collection of broken Technicolor eggs.

\---

I searched around the city until I found my own dragon’s mind, and I reached out.

I showed her what Thorn had showed me, and for a moment I didn’t hear anything. But then a roar sounded above me, and Grey alighted in the middle of the road. I sprinted to her and clambered up her side, throwing myself into the saddle.

Grey lifted into the air and angled herself north, hovering for a moment before flying north as fast as her wings could take her.

\---

We flew through the night, moon and stars wheeling overhead. The sun had begun to rise when our destination came into view, and it colored the clouds that had obscured the sky a light grey.

A beautiful mountain range was spread out before me, peaks reaching up to touch the sky. And on the edge of it was the same building I had come to, albeit in a different way, so long ago; the stronghold of the Veil.

And it had been destroyed.

I could see a large chunk missing from the mountain near the peak. The gates were smashed inward, and multiple fires still burned beyond in the yard. Grey soared into the yard and I didn’t even wait until she had landed, unbuckling the straps around my legs and dropping almost twenty feet to the ground.

My feet hit the ground and the shock traveled up my legs, but I pushed past it and sprinted through the gate that led into the keep.

The stench of blood hung in the air. The entire entryway and beyond was clogged with bodies, and their blood had pooled on the floor. I stopped to search one and uncovered intricate, scrawling tattoos written in a script I didn’t understand. They were easterners.

Pirates.

I ran through other hallways, and passed through the other rooms in the keep. It was always the same. Dead bodies half-submerged in lakes of blood. It seemed like an entire army had been slaughtered.

As I neared the highest floor of the keep, I could hear the sounds of battle: metal against metal, skin against skin, yells of frenzied warriors. It was all coming from the further ahead. I sprinted as fast as I could and made it to the double doors at the end of the hallway just in time to see Reyn face down ten pirates at the same time.

She hurled Farseer like a throwing knife at one of them, impaling him. She wrenched a shortsword from another’s grasp, used it to kill him, and then she jumped onto a third and stabbed him in the chest, riding his body to the ground. Reyn jumped up and drew a dagger from her belt, using it to cut the throats of the fourth and fifth warriors. Then it too, was thrown, skewering the left eye of another. One of the remaining warriors took a slash at her and she dodged under it gracefully, scooping up a piece of rubble from the ground and hurling it at the warrior who had attacked. It landed square in the middle of his chest, and punched through the warrior like a rock through paper. She wrenched Farseer from the body of the first man, and used it to mercilessly dispatch two of the remaining three.

The last man let out a war cry and charged Reyn, swinging his warhammer in a downward arc. Reyn waited until the last second, and then, when the hammer was about to connect, faster than lightning, she caught it by the handle. The muscles in her arm flexed as she absorbed the impact. While the warrior was still in shock, she drove Farseer up to its hilt in his chest and tore it out after a moment. She stood in the middle of the circle of bodies, breathing heavily, for a moment before she turned to face me.

She was covered in blood, in stark contrast to her pale skin. It slicked her hair down and ran down her face and below her eyes like tears. It soaked through her torn shirt and pants and ran down her arms. It wasn’t all from the bodies either. Reyn was bleeding from multiple different cuts and scratches, and her knuckles were torn and bloodied.

Farseer slipped from her hand and clattered to the floor, the metal on stone seeming louder than it should. Reyn brought her hands up in front of her face. Her hands were shaking, and I could see horror reflected in her grey eyes. She sank to her knees and looked at her hands for a long moment, and when she looked back up, I saw she had started to cry. The tears carved clean lines through the blood.

I walked tentatively forward and knelt in front of her. I reached my hands out, and when they made contact with her shoulders, I pulled her into a tight embrace. She let a sob loose into my shoulder, and I tightened my grip, smearing blood on my face.

I could feel Reyn’s slim frame shake under me, the muscles of her back contorting under my fingers.

I took a moment to finally look around. We were in a large rounded room. Parts of the ceiling had caved in, and a dim grey light filtered through the holes, illuminating the dust in the air. Countless wooden shelves were strewn around the room, knocked over and broken, and the floor was littered with small shards of what looked like stone in all different colors. I realized with a start where we were. The Dragonhold. All the pieces of stone on the floor were eggs. Broken eggs.

I felt a rush of sadness, and then anger. Was this why Reyn had left in such a hurry, why Thorn had been so angry?

I finally summoned the courage to speak. “Reyn…what-“

She cut me off by shaking her head.

“Alright” I said, “Do you want to leave?”

I felt her nod, so I put an arm around her shoulders and helped her up, acutely aware of her leaning against me. We walked back the way I had come, past all the wrecked furniture, and bodies, and lakes of blood. When we had almost reached the doors leading out of the keep, I felt Reyn shift her weight off of me and grasp my hand, pulling me off into a side hallway. When we came to a dead end, Reyn put a hand up to the wall and whispered a few words, taking her hand away after a short moment and pulling me toward the wall. I gasped as we passed _through_ the wall, and into darkness. Reyn dropped my hand and I fumbled around until light flared up. I looked towards the source of it, a narrow strip of white-hot rock running along the wall, and found Reyn with a hand against it. She caught my eyes and stared, speaking after a few moments.

“I call it lightstone.” She said, and her voice sounded hollow and flat, to match her expression. “You can guess why.”

She started walking forward and motioned with her hand for me to follow. We came to a staircase that spiraled downwards after a few moments of walking. The staircase spiraled down, down, down; ever downwards; until I was sure we had been walking for miles. Finally the stairs stopped spiraling and a different color light could be seen ahead.

The stairway led into a medium sized cave, lit with a soft blue-green light. The small amount of ground there was made of some sort of black sand. The rest of the cave was occupied by an underground spring. The water had some sort of dust suspended in it, giving it a pleasant blue-grey color. Before I could even move or speak, Reyn walked towards the water, stripped off her tattered tunic, and kept walking until the water was above her waist. She turned to face me and I thanked any god that existed for the strip of linen across her chest, because in lieu of that, I would have spontaneously combusted.

“I need to tell you something.” She said, “And it’s going to be very hard for me.”

I sat down on the sand. “Take your time.”

“I told you I was twenty-three winters old, right?” At my nodding she continued. “I lied. I’ve lied so much...to everyone. I’m not twenty-three. I’m not even close.” She sat down in the water. “All the dragon eggs in the Dragonhold, even Thorn’s egg, came from a dragon broodmother. The _last_ broodmother. She gave me Thorn…long ago, and agreed to populate the hold when I took control of the Veil. I gave an oath to always protect it, a powerful oath. And if I couldn’t, the oath would drive me to seek revenge. That’s why I did this, why I vomited blood in the middle of a street in the pits.

I felt my stomach do flips. “If you aren’t twenty-three, how old _are_ you?

Reyn chuckled hollowly and sighed. “I’m going to tell you a story; the Legend of the Shattered Throne.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So when Reyn is talking about the elves I wanted it to sound like the Tenth Doctor talking about the Timelords, which makes sense to anyone who has watched Doctor Who. Basically I wanted her to sound like an old soul. Anyway, thanks for reading.
> 
> Also, if anyone cares, this is now the longest thing I've ever written. The document I'm writing it in is over 30k words. So horray!
> 
> Some info that i left out: Fiona and Han are not biologically related


	7. Storytime

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so like two thousand years ago, reyn is like twenty-one

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this is unedited because i'm running on fumes

Reyn Analisa Greymark was not a morning person.

To trifle with the princess heir to the throne of Caelus in the morning hours had been likened to facing death itself. The servants and guards all through the castle were afraid to disturb the girl, who would likely wield the closest weapon at hand in retribution.

Reyn’s father had no qualms about disturbing his daughter’s slumber, so when he roused her before the sun had risen; even her most scathing glare was ineffective.

Reyn flipped herself over and burrowed deeper into the blankets and furs piled on top of her bed. “Daaad. Why?”

Her father laughed, and spoke in his deep, gravelly voice. “It’s time to get up, little raindrop. I have an early morning lesson for you.”

Reyn rolled back over and shielded her eyes from the miniscule light of the candle. “The sun hasn’t even risen yet! What is so important that I need to be up while the moon is still out?”

“It’s a surprise, Reyn. It would spoil the fun if I told you. Besides, it isn’t my fault if you choose to stay up all hours of the night drinking and trying to woo girls.”

“Hey!” Reyn said, sitting up. “Don’t…question my methods.”

Her father merely smiled.

Reyn swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, making her way over to the massive wardrobe pushed against one of the walls.

“What should I dress for?” she asked without turning around.

“Dress in light clothes.”

“Ooo” Reyn cooed, “Light clothes. Are we sparring?”

“It’s a surprise, Reyn. I’m still not telling you.”

“You’re no fun.” She grumbled.

After what Reyn deemed as an acceptable amount of time, and what her father deemed as entirely too long, Reyn strode into the corridor and followed her father when he began walking. She had chosen a pair of tight-fitting pants and grey tunic that ended just above her knees, secured at her waist with a length of cord. The outfit was completed with a pair of flat-soled shoes.

“So dad” Reyn said as she walked. “Why didn’t you wait until mom was back for this? You know how she just _loves_ surprising me with things.” She frowned and glanced at her father. “It’s not another gaggle of suitors is it? Because you remember the last time she tried that.”

“No” her father responded. “And sarcasm notwithstanding, your…ah…your mother-“

“She wouldn’t approve.” Reyn finished for him. “It’s a weapon, isn’t it?”

“ _It’s. A. Surprise._ ”

“Damn you.” Reyn responded, laughing.

Finally reaching the courtyard of the keep, Reyn and her father strode out of the gates of the keep. Reyn shielded her eyes from the moon.

“Too bright!” she shook her head and backpedaled.

Her father grabbed her by the shoulder and pulled her along. “It’s the _moon_ , daughter. _The moon._ How many drinks did you have?”

“One.” Reyn replied.

“One drink?” her father balked.

“No, no.” Reyn responded. “One cask. It was that mead we got from the east.”

“Good god, Reyn. I’m starting to think I should’ve waited until tomorrow.”

“Nooo” Reyn stifled a yawn. “We’re committed n—hang on,” She turned to the side and vomited in the street, “We’re committed now.”

Reyn’s eyes had finally adjusted to the light, so she stopped squinting and looked around.

“Where are we going?” she asked.

“To a shop on the east side of the city. I’ve gotten word that they finally finished something I commissioned.”

Reyn and her father walked the rest of the way in silence. Most of the city hadn’t risen yet, and anyone lurking in the alleys wasn’t stupid enough to try to attack the King and Princess Heir of Caelus.

The shop they finally came to was very unassuming. It had a small sign hanging above the door, in the shape of a sewing needle with thread spiraling around it. Reyn snorted when she saw the sign.

“What?” her father asked.

“A tailor? Did you get me a dress, because if you woke me up before the sun just for a _dress_ , then I swear I will walk back to the palace keep.”

Her father laughed. “Not a dress. This particular shop specializes in specialty orders like mine.”

Reyn and her father stepped through the door, and her father rang the small bell on top of the shop’s front counter.

“But it is clothes” Reyn said. “That’s what you woke me up for.”

“That’s part of it.” He responded.

Reyn’s response was cut off by the arrival who Reyn guessed was the tailor.

“Your Majesty.” He bowed low. “You have impeccable timing. We’ve just finished the final touches on your order, and I think you’ll be very pleased.”

Reyn’s father smiled. “I have no doubt that I’ll be satisfied, Connor.”

The man smiled and began walking to the doorway he had entered through, stopping when he reached the threshold to beckon Reyn and her father. The door led into a large room, lit by a multitude of candles scattered around. The candles illuminated the multitude of mannequins hosting half-finished designs, and large desk sat in the back of the room covered in papers and pieces of fabric.

And in the center of the room was a mannequin, just like the others, only this one held a finished design. It was a jumpsuit, sleek and black, with a zipper trailing up the front. It had several visible places to put knives or other blades in, and as Reyn would soon discover, several hidden places. It was fancy looking, but low profile enough for public wear. Sitting over the suit was a long double-breasted coat, with a similar color scheme to the suit and grey trim. Upon further inspection, there was even a hood attached to the coat. Curling around the neck of the mannequin like a snake was a black and white checkerboard pattern scarf and, like icing on the nonexistent cake, a pair of medium-height geldish-made boots sat on the floor.

Reyn was transfixed, but she managed to tear herself away from the outfit to turn to her father.

“Dad?” she asked tentatively. “What… _is_ this?”

“Early name day gift?” he tried.

Reyn shook her head. “My name day isn’t for another two months.”

Her father sighed and threw up his hands. “Does a father need an excuse to do nice things for his daughter?”

“No, but I don’t know what this is.”

“It’s an outfit I had designed for you. I thought this might…create a more striking image for the Royal Spymaster.”

“If this is about me being the spymaster” Reyn said, clasping her hands behind her back, “then I assume you have a mission for me.”

He grimaced. “Yes, this gift is a double-edged sword of sorts. I need you to ride northeast to a small port town, Alberoth. The leaders there are House Fremont, and there has been word of shady goings-on around that area that could have far-reaching repercussions. When you arrive, covertly pass this missive” he handed Reyn an envelope, “to Lord Fremont. Once you are satisfied in Alberoth, I want you to ride west to Whitefall.”

“Why am I going to Whitefall?”

Reyn’s father hesitated, and Reyn could hear that he was lying when he finally spoke.

“I need you to check up on the citadel and make everything is in order.”

“And then ride back to the capitol?” Reyn asked.

“Yes.” Her father responded, hesitating again. “I’ll leave so you can get ready. Meet me at the stables when you are done.”

An hour later, Reyn sat atop her own molted grey courser that she had aptly named “Grey”. Each of his large saddle bags were filled with provisions, with the missive her father had given her tucked safely at the bottom.

Reyn was about to urge Grey out of the stables when her father called to her. She turned in the saddle to see her father running towards her, carrying a sword. _Her_ sword, she realized.

“You almost forgot this.” Her father said, handing it up to her.

Reyn smiled and accepted the sword, sliding it slightly out of its sheath to admire the freshly polished silver metal before sliding the sword over her shoulders so it sat against her back.

Reyn smiled at her father. “Thanks. I almost forgot I sent Farseer to the blacksmith.”

She was about to dig her heels into Grey again when her father stopped her.

“Reyn” he said, and his voice was suffused with sadness and regret, “I know the three of us, your mother and I and you, don’t always agree on everything. But I want you to know that I…that your mother and I love you very much and we couldn’t be more proud of you.”

Tears had begun to leak out of her father’s eyes as he finished, and Reyn laughed nervously. “What’s with the teary goodbye? I’m only going to be gone a few weeks at most.”

Her father chuckled and dabbed his eyes with his sleeve. “Yes. You’re right. But I can be overly maudlin at times.”

There was a moment of silence, and suddenly Reyn was out of the saddle and embracing her father tightly.

“Goodbye Dad.” She whispered in his ear.

After she released him, she was back on the horse, and finally, she urged Grey out of the stables.

Once Reyn cleared the gates of the keep, she tugged the hood of her coat up and pulled her scarf over her face.

\---

After almost a week of riding and another two days of searching and investigating and interrogating, Reyn finally found out what was going on in Alberoth.

_Absolutely. Fucking. Nothing._

That fact had continuously taunted her as she rode to Whitefall, her ancestral home and the seat of power in the north. It had mocked her as the massive white stone tower that was Whitefall’s defining characteristic came into view. And as she sat herself behind the large chair in what had been her father’s study and went over what were probably the most tedious reports in all of Caelus, her anger simmered just below her skin, and downing half of the bottle of wine she had found in the study didn’t help. Reyn stayed angry until a page burst through the door, trying to speak but too out of breath. Reyn was happy for the distraction, and waited for the page to speak.

“My Lady” the page said. “A messenger has just arrived from the capitol! He bears urgent news.”

“What about?” Reyn asked.

“He didn’t tell me. The messenger said it was for your ears only, My Lady. He’s in the kitchens when you’re ready.”

Reyn was up from the chair and out the door faster than seemed humanly possible, and she strode down the hallways with grim purpose. The messenger was seated at a table in the kitchens, eating heartily from a bowl of stew. When he noticed Reyn, he jackknifed to his feet and gave her the customary salute that all the members of the military and guard gave to royalty; their right fist over their heart, and their left arm behind their back.

Reyn stayed silent, waiting for the messenger to speak. He realized that after a moment and spoke. “I bring…news from the capitol, your highness.”

It took Reyn a moment to collect herself enough to speak.

“What happened?” she asked.

The messenger cast his eyes down. “There was…an incident…an assassin.” He replied, and he continued speaking, but it all turned to white noise in Reyn’s ears. No matter how many times she repeated it in her head, the white noise drowned out everything but one simple fact.

Her parents were dead.

Not away, not visiting faraway kingdoms, not negotiating trade disputes…

Dead.

And then Reyn was moving, stumbling past the messenger, stumbling out of the kitchens, and running down hallways, until she found herself in front of Grey’s stall in the stables. He was still saddled, saddlebags still almost half full of provisions. Reyn wasted no time mounting him and urging him out of the stables.

Reyn left Whitefall through the northern gate. Where she was riding to, she didn’t know, she only knew that she wanted to ride as far north as she could. As far away from everything as she could get.

\---

Reyn didn’t exactly remember what had happened after she had left Whitefall. It was a jumbled mess of memories, hazy with sadness-induced delirium. Reyn remembered everything getting colder as she rode north. Halfway down the storm path, the only route through the mountains, it started snowing violently. The stars seemed to visibly wheel overhead and fade into the sun more times than Reyn cared to count, and always the weather was the same; snow. The cold had long since permeated every part of Reyn, and it seemed like she was teetering on the edge of death. Was she trying to die? No. But she didn’t care anymore, because her mind always came back to one thought.

Her parents were _gone_.

_Dead._

**_Gone._ **

Each time the thought crossed her mind, it brought on a fresh wave of tears which immediately froze to Reyn’s face.

All of this continued until Reyn swayed to the side and fell off of her horse, and everything went black.

\---

Reyn awoke drenched in sweat and shot into a sitting position. A decision she immediately regretted, as every part of her body throbbed in unison and she let out a strangled cry, flopping back on to the bed and writhing in agony. After almost a minute of pain, someone hurried through the door of whatever room Reyn was in. They immediately sank to their knees beside the bed Reyn was in and laid their hands on Reyn’s stomach. It was the feeling of their cold hands that clued Reyn in to the fact that she was in only smallclothes, and thankfully mostly under a blanket.

The moment their hands came into contact with Reyn’s stomach, she felt a cool presence, like water, spreading throughout her entire body. It calmed the fire and agony and soothed her broken spirit.

Reyn hadn’t been able to pay attention before, but now she allowed her eyes to roam. The entire room was made out of wood, with moonlight shining through the single window. The entire layout of the room looked eerily familiar to Reyn, and it barely took a second for her to place where she was. Looking over at her apparent healer only confirmed her suspicions.

The healer was an elf, with red hair that still looked bright in the light of the moon. The elf’s long hair was pulled over one shoulder, showing the fairly revealing open collar of a white shirt. Around the healer’s neck was a small pendant carved in the likeness of a hawk. Reyn felt the healer’s hands leave her stomach and gently cup her face, tilting it up slightly to meet the eyes of the elf. They were wide and greener than the greenest grass, and Reyn reveled in their gaze for a moment before she spoke.

Reyn’s voice slipped into the lilting Elven language. “ _You look beautiful tonight, healer._ ”

The healer laughed out a sob, responding in the same language. “ _And you as well, Captain._ ”

“Where am I?” Reyn asked in the common tongue.

“The Havens.” The elf answered. “Scouts found you being dragged by your horse on our southern border. Once they realized who you were, they brought you to the capitol as fast as they could. You’ve been here for almost three days.”

Reyn’s eyes widened. “Mira” she said to the elf, “does the queen know?”

The elf, Mira, frowned. “Know that the lord and lady of the realm are dead? Or that you are here? Yes. She knows.”

Reyn started to rise, but the elf laid a hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her back down.

“The queen is informed of the situation, and she is doing what she can. But you are in no condition to do anything, Captain.”

“Fine.” Reyn laid back. “Has there been any news from Urbus?”

Mira nodded. “The funeral for the king and queen is to be had on the morning of the name day of the princess heir.” Reyn’s face adopted a disgusted look at that and the elf barreled on. “My guess is that the court thought it…fitting, in a horrifying sort of way. After the funeral, the court plans to host an extravagant party, officially, for your name day.”

Reyn shot up again, ignoring her protesting body, and the protests of the elf. “I have to get to the capitol, Mira.”

Reyn swung her legs over the side of the bed and stood up, placing a palm on the wall to steady herself. Once her legs felt solid enough, Reyn pushed away from the wall and staggered towards the door. It opened and Reyn tripped over the doorway, coming down hard on her hands and knees. In front of her were two bare feet, with unblemished pale white skin. The feet were connected to two long legs that disappeared under a flowing white dress that cascaded down like waves. The dress didn’t have sleeves, and it showcased the all of the arms. One was smooth, while the other was pockmarked by numerous white scars that contrasted with the pallor of her skin.

The person’s face was beautiful, in a terrifying way. Long black hair was pushed over one shoulder, and atop it was perched a dark black circlet, with a thin line of silver running all the way around it. Her ears were tapered to points, and her mouth was set in a hard, thin line.

Her eyes were the strangest. They were a deep purple color that seemed to dance and flicker like fire. They were surrounded by no wrinkles or crow’s feet, but when you caught their gaze and stared deeply, they seemed ancient and endless.

It was the Queen.

 _The_ Queen, Reyn realized. The queen of the elves.

Reyn jackknifed to her feet to stand at attention out of habit, and immediately regretted it. Stars swam in front of her and the world seemed to tilt before cool and steadying hands were on her shoulders.

The Queen spoke first, in her native tongue. “ _Well met, Captain._ ”

When Reyn spoke, she made it through a single word before the word tilted again. Reyn wanted to throw up.

The queen laughed, a high musical sound, and smiled. “ _Save your energy, we have urgent business to discuss._ ” The Queen turned to Mira, “ _Help the Captain to my private meeting room, please._ ”

Mira nodded and put her arm around Reyn’s shoulders. Reyn finally relaxed and allowed Mira to take some of her weight. Limping along, they made surprisingly good time, and they were in front of a large wooden door with intricate designs etched into it in no time. The elf shifted Reyn’s weight to the wall and produced a bundle of fabric from the satchel hanging from her waist, handing it to Reyn.

Reyn let it unfurl to the floor. It was a cloak.

Reyn was suddenly very aware of the fact that she was practically naked, and she draped the cloak over her shoulders. She turned back to the elf, but before she could speak, the elf cupped her face in her hands and kissed her. Before Reyn could respond, the elf pulled away and walked down the hallway, disappearing around a corner, leaving Reyn looking like a confused fish.

\---

The Queen of the elves looked resplendent in her high-backed chair, as always. At the head of the circular table, she looked even more regal. But Reyn looked like a beggar, wrapped in a cloak and hunched over, staring at the ground.

It was the Queen who spoke first, and she spoke in common.

“How have you been since we last saw each other, young one?”

Reyn didn’t respond, just continued to stare at her hands.

“The Havens have been well.” The Queen said, “I wish my daughter the queen had seen fit to send you to us one more time, but that is unfortunately not the case.”

Reyn still didn’t respond.

The Queen sighed, and tried a different tactic. “Your parents are **_dead_** , child. Do you plan to wallow in your grief forever?”

Reyn still said nothing, but she let out a sob and tears splashed down on to her hands.

The Queen winced and stood from her chair, making her way to the other side of the table to sit next to Reyn.

When the Queen was close enough, Reyn felt arms encircle her head and pull her tight against a chest. All of this only brought a fresh wave of tears for Reyn, and so she cried into the arms of the Queen.

The queen sighed sadly. “I share in your tears, young one. The passing of my daughter pains me like nothing I have felt before.”

Reyn had stopped sobbing, and she finally spoke. “I’m sorry I couldn’t save them.”

Her voice was scratchy and rough from disuse.

The Queen chuckled. “It was not your job to save them; you need only carry on their legacy.”

Reyn pulled herself from the Queen’s embrace and wiped her eyes. “I…I don’t think I’m ready to take the throne.”

“I expected that to be your answer.” The Queen responded.

“I’m sorry-“ Reyn began, but the Queen cut her off.

“Do not apologize” the Queen said, cupping Reyn’s face in her hands and brushing away the tears that had begun to fall again with her thumbs. “If you think you are not ready, then you aren’t ready. That being the case, we need to take certain measures to make sure that the kingdom is in control of those who are just and right, and will remain so.”

Reyn looked away from the Queen, deep in thought. After a moment, an idea elbowed its way to the front of her mind, and she turned back to the Queen. “We can install another house as Lord Regents indefinitely. We can sneak it into my father’s will, and perpetuate the ruse that I’ve disappeared.”

The Queen smiled. “When the guards brought you into the Havens, I ordered them to search your saddlebags thoroughly. They found this” she produced a folded collection of papers, “in a secret pocket.”

The Queen handed the papers to Reyn, who unfolded them and scanned over them. After a moment, she set the papers down on the table and ran a hand over her face.

“He must’ve snuck it into my saddlebags.” Reyn said. “ _And_ he already planned for this. There’s a recently added addendum that almost perfectly matches my plan.”

The Queen nodded. “Your father hid a letter to me along with the will detailing the addendum, but I wanted to see if you would come to the same conclusion.”

Reyn huffed and sat back. “Well, I did. So what now?”

“Your name day is in about a month,” the Queen leaned forward, resting her chin on her hands. “The healers informed me that you will be well enough to travel by then. As your grandmother, I will be expected to make an appearance at your name day celebration, barring the fact you won’t be in attendance. I will bring an entourage of guards, one of which you will be. You can use your… _special skills_ to sneak the king’s will back into his vault.”

Reyn frowned. “Will my uniform still fit?”

The Queen smiled. “I think you will find that it will always fit.”

\---

The Elvish Royal Guard was renowned for their prowess in battle, and their distinctive look, and Reyn would once again be among their ranks.

Reyn was outfitted in the Royal Guard uniform. She was wearing a thin pair of boots that reached up her ankles, and tight-fitting black trousers. Greaves covered her shins and extended to cover her knees. On her torso, she wore a long-sleeved black undershirt, with a black tunic over it. Over that, a breastplate that covered up her curves and two pauldrons on her shoulders. On her hands were fingerless gloves, and over them were gauntlets that covered her forearms. On her head was a balaclava, and a hood connected to the tunic, so only her eyes were visible. All of the metal had been polished to until it shone, and it must have been enchanted, because it didn’t make a sound when Reyn moved around. Knotted around her neck was a white scarf with three black lines running laterally across it, marking her as a captain.

The Elves’ party had arrived late at night, and only one steward had come to greet them, apologizing profusely that no one more official was there to greet them. The Queen silenced him with a look, and asked that he give the Elves appropriate lodging.

He bowed and backed away, stopping only to allow the Guard to fall into step behind him. The steward led the Guard through a familiar passage in the keep, to the quarters reserved for visiting important people.

Everything looked familiar to Reyn, and she fought the urge to break rank and bolt to her own room. But she waited, waited until the group of twenty Elvish Guard had gotten situated, and then she bolted. None of the Elves questioned it; they all knew who she was.

Reyn made it all the way to the stairs down to her father’s personal vault before she backtracked and detoured. She knew there would be no guards posted at her father’s study, but she still padded along, silent as a cat. The plain door to her father’s study wasn’t even locked, so Reyn let herself in and closed the door as quietly as she could manage.

It was the same as it had always been, but it seemed darker somehow, and colder. The was no candle lit, no light streaming in through the windows, no fire in the grate, and her father wasn’t dozing in his high-backed chair, or trying to evade paperwork.

The desk was remarkably clean and orderly, except for one envelope. As Reyn neared the desk, she saw that her name was written on the letter, in her father’s elegant handwriting. When she was close enough, Reyn sat down in the chair and took the letter and turned it over in her hands. The wax had been pressed with her father’s personal seal, a hawk. The symbol of the Greymarks.

Reyn broke the seal and opened the envelope, withdrawing the letter. It was just a single page, written in the same elegant cursive.

_Dear Reyn,_

_If you are reading this, I am most likely dead. I’m sorry to have deceived you, and I know you must be angry with me and your mother. But I know that you would have tried to prevent my assassination, and you would have gotten yourself hurt in the process, and I could not allow that. It was long-coming, and nothing anyone could do can stop it. A group of easterners have been angry with our family for generations, and they harbor wounds too deep to ever be mended by peace. I could take preventative measures to survive, but I hope that through this, their vendetta ends with me, and does not pass to you. I sent my will with you to prevent tampering by the more…underhanded of the senators, and I have no doubt you and your grandmother have read it by now. I think you forget sometimes that I am your father, and that I know you. I knew you harbored doubt in your heart as to whether you are ready to take the throne. I believe that no one is ever truly ready, but if you still doubt yourself, then I hope my will gives you solace, until you believe you are ready._

_Know that even in death, I love you, and that there is no force that exists or will exist that can change that._

_His Majesty The King, Hayden Greymark_

 

Reyn set the paper down and put her head in her hands. And she cried. She cried for her father, for her mother, and most of all for the reality that she really wasn’t ready to take the throne.

In her sorrow, Reyn lost track of time. Eventually she pushed herself out of the high-backed chair and slid through the door, tucking the letter into the space between her breastplate and her chest.

The moon had begun to set when Reyn finally reached her father’s vault. Its door was secured with the most sophisticated lock in Caelus, but Reyn’s father had taught her of a secret passage into the vault, and after a few minutes of searching, Reyn finally found it.

It was dark inside the vault, but Reyn could see in the dark well enough with the gifts she had been graced with by her Elvish heritage. There was a raised pedestal in the center of the room, with intricate carvings blanketing the surface. Reyn took the tube containing her father’s will from her belt and set it on the pedestal.

She waited for a moment before leaving, going back down the secret passage and hiding its entrance behind her. She all but sprinted back through the halls back to the company of elves. When she reached the rooms they had been given, only a few Elves were still awake, and merely nodded in greeting. The Queen fixed her with a sad stare.

“Is it done?” she asked.

Reyn tore the hood and balaclava off, and the tears blanketing her cheeks were made visible.

“It’s done.” Reyn replied in a hoarse voice.

“Then sleep. I know your wounds are not fully healed, and tomorrow will be long and taxing for us all.”

Reyn nodded, suddenly feeling very tired, and becoming aware of her aching muscles. She stumbled towards an empty bed, freeing herself of the breastplate and pauldrons before falling face-first on to the mattress. Reyn was asleep in seconds.

\---

The throne room wasn’t exactly the largest room in the keep, but the room had an uncanny ability to make anyone feel small. At the end opposite to the door was the throne, draped in black. The throne of the king or queen of Caelus. It belonged to Reyn by blood and by rite, but her doubt had festered.

In the middle of the room was a large, round table. Around it were seated the thirty most powerful men and women on the entire continent. The assembly had deemed that the Queen of the Elves, as a suitably neutral party, would read the King’s will. She had brought all of the Guard with her, but only the three captains were arrayed behind her. The rest of the Guard was standing at attention against the walls of the room. The Queen cleared her throat and waited for the talking to die down before she began. Reyn tuned it out from the beginning and instead focused on analyzing potential threats.

The Woods’ from the west wouldn’t provide conflict. They had always been staunch supporters of the Greymarks. House Axel wouldn’t be a problem, and the Lords of House Fremont had been close friends of the King. House Greymark was unrepresented, and the Pirate Caliphate in the east had ignored the summons. Most likely too busy fighting and killing each other. The rest would only speak if they didn’t get what they deemed as “a fair share”, which they wouldn’t.

Satisfied with her analysis, Reyn stared off into space and occupied herself with thoughts of what she would do after all of this, where she would go. But her thoughts wandered back to Mira, the elf. The color of her hair in the sun, the dimples that formed when she smiled, the scattering of freckles across the bridge of her nose, the nights they had laid side by side under the stars in the Havens.

Reyn finally tore herself out of her thoughts and focused back on the conversation when she heard the Queen begin speaking about the line of succession.

“It is the view of I, the King, Hayden Greymark, that my daughter, Reyn Analisa Greymark, is the inheritor of the throne of Caelus, and the monarchy of Caelus, with all the attendant titles and lands that come with.”

The Queen enunciated the next part with more clarity then the rest. “Addendum number fifteen: if my daughter, Reyn Analisa Greymark, has not revealed herself or attended the reading of my will, then the control of the Kingdom of Caelus will fall to a steward house. House Axel is authorized to act as Regents until my daughter returns to take control of the Kingdom.”

There was a tense moment of silence throughout the room, and a few of the men and women seated glanced around, as if they expected Reyn to appear out of thin air.

When she didn’t, the Queen cleared her throat and continued on. But Reyn tuned it out again. She ignored it all until a cacophonous sound from behind her drew her attention. She whipped around to face the throne, and her eyes widened in horror. The throne had shattered into a thousand pieces, like it was made of glass, and shredded the black cloth covering it. As clamor overtook the assembled lords and ladies, Reyn just stared at the broken remains of the throne, wondering if it was her fault.

Reyn kept wondering on the entire journey back to the Mirror Havens. Even when they crested a hill and the Elves’ capitol city came into view, it still plagued her thoughts. But when Reyn finally reached the rooms the Queen had given her in the Royal Mansion, and found a red-haired elf waiting for her, she found that she was able to forget, if only for a little while.

_One hundred years later…_

The Queen of the Elves, while being ancient and timeless, was still shackled by her title. All through the day, she had sat and listened to the grievances of her people. Some, she cared for, others she thought pointless and stupid. But the last of her people to come to her caught her eye. To anyone else, they looked like a common vagabond, but to the Queen, the long black hooded coat and checkerboard scarf they wore were unmistakable. The stranger immediately went over to the elegant set of glasses and the decanter on a tray on top of a table next to the Queen’s throne. They poured themselves a glass of the ultra-strong Elvish wine with shaking fingers and downed it with frightening speed. They slammed the glass back down on the tray when they was finished, bracing their arms on the table for a moment.

The Queen sighed. “A hello would be nice, granddaughter.”

The stranger whipped around and threw a glass past the Queen’s head. It shattered against the wall, and the stranger threw their hood down. Their dark blonde hair had been cut in a newer style, short on the sides and longer on the top. Her face was feminine, but not overly so, with a sharp jawline, and a new scar crossing over the corners of her lips.

“ _Fuck you!_ ” Reyn screamed. “You _told_ me you would keep her safe! _You promised me_.” Tears were streaming down her face. “And now she is _dead_. And I’m alone again. It’s been a hundred years and I still look like I’m barely twenty-five winters.”

The Queen stood up and walked over to Reyn, tilting her chin up with her fingers and inspecting her face.

“Why?” Reyn asked, crying, “ _Why do I still look the same?_ ”

“I do not know, child.” The Queen answered. “By all the laws of the world, you should have aged and withered by now. Even the half-elven are subject to the rules of time. But you seem to be stuck—unchanging. If you so wish, I can ask my scholars to look for an answer.”

Reyn scrubbed at her eyes and sniffled. “Thank you.”

The Queen smiled warmly. “Would you like to stay for a few weeks while they look?”

Reyn let out a watery chuckle. “At least there’s someone left who knows me well. Yes, I would. Is my old room still mine?”

The Queen scoffed. “Of course it is. But granddaughter,” She adopted a serious tone, “I think we need to have a talk about your excessive consumption of alcohol.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i tried writing in third-person
> 
> i think it might be a little better than my usual writing


	8. Medieval Fight Club

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sometimes i think i abuse timeskips
> 
> remember the first rule of fight club kids

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so this chapter has a little bit of it written from Reyn's view, which starts with this ///---\\\\\ and ends with this \\\\\\---///

Reyn had stopped speaking, and was just staring at the surface of the water. I tried to digest everything she had just told me, that she was two thousand years old, and the rightful queen of Caelus at that. It made my head spin just thinking about it, but in a strange way, it made sense. All of her quirks and old-world mannerisms and even the way she talked to a degree. It was visible in the way she used a sword, too. Or how she fought with her hands. It seemed more like dancing when she fought, flowing effortlessly with more grace and practice than I thought possible.

Reyn sighed, and it seemed to be relief more than anything else.

“That’s the first time I’ve told anyone that story all the way through.” She said. “I know it’s a lot to digest. If you have any more questions, feel free to ask.” After a few moments she spoke again. “If it’s about how I’ve lived this long, I don’t have any idea. They still haven’t found an answer.”

The most obvious question I could think of popped into my head. “Why did you wait so long?”

Reyn laughed, more of a quick exhale than a laugh, and answered. “I…I don’t think I’m fit to run an entire kingdom. I’m really not that mentally stable, and two-thousand years of drinking probably didn’t help.”

“But…” I said. “You have friends. People who can help.”

“People like Will?” Reyn asked. “He’s doing a great job already. What’s the use in destroying all of that just so I can take a title? And you can call me a coward all you want, but do you know what they called my grandmother: Harlot, Witch, **_Whore_**. The list goes on. And the assassination attempts? There were so many I lost count, and that’s just when I was in the guard.”

“And what?” I said, my voice taking an edge. “You’re scared?”

“Yes!” Reyn stood up out of the water and stalked towards me. In a moment she loomed over me, and I stood to meet her. We glared at each other, and when Reyn spoke again, it was with a soft voice. “Yes. I am scared that if I take the crown, the people I…the people I love will get hurt in the process.”

I started to move, to comfort her, but really to do what I had wanted to do for months, but Reyn was faster. She gripped my shoulders, impossibly gently, and pressed her lips to mine.

It occurred to me in that moment that Reyn was the first person I had ever kissed, and she tasted of metal and salt and just the slightest echo of beer.

I wrapped my hands around her forearms and held her in place when it seemed like she was going to pull away, and kept the both of us rooted in place; hungrily, greedily.

Eventually we pulled away from each other to breathe, but I kept my hands on Reyn’s arms. I stared into her steely gray eyes, and she stared back at me I silence. Her mouth hung open slightly and she almost looked sad. I heard a rhythmic thud in the back of my mind, and assumed it was my heart hammering away in my chest.

Reyn was the first to speak. “Fiona, I’m so-“

“Please don’t say that you’re sorry.”

I heard the thudding again, louder this time, but I ignored it.

“But I-“

I interrupted her again by pressing a kiss lightly to her lips. “Reyn. I like you. A lot. And I’m sorry it’s taken me so long to realize it.”

Before Reyn could respond, I felt a large arm encircle my torso, pinning my arms to my body and pulling me towards the stairs. I flailed my legs and writhed around, by the arm just held me away a safe distance; grip still ironclad. Before I could scream, a hot hand clamped down over my mouth. I looked towards Reyn for help, and she was already moving. But then, slow and leisurely, a body maneuvered themselves between me and Reyn.

The figure they cut was equal parts striking and imposing. Long curly brown hair cascaded down over broad shoulders. He wore a vest crisscrossed with straps and buckles, and a knife hung lazily from one of them. A belt secured his loose leather pants, tucked into knee high boots and adorned with many more knives and an elaborate sheath with no blade in it. The vest showed all of his muscular, scared arms, with pirate tattoos winding around them. One of his hands was clenched around the jeweled hilt of a cutlass with a shining blade stuck deep in Reyn’s right shoulder.

I could see where it had cut through bone and muscle and tendon. Her right arm and shoulder hung at her side, useless. She stared down at it in amazement and bewilderment. I failed to resist the urge to scream, and it sounded loud even through the hand. After that it was eerily silent, until Reyn coughed quietly and blood began to trickle from her mouth. She fell to her knees, unable to fall any further; the sword still held her up.

The long-haired pirate braced his foot on Reyn’s chest and tore out the sword. I heard it grind against bone before it gave and came free.

No longer being held up by the sword, Reyn fell sideways to the ground and the blood coming from her shoulder soaked the sand.

I screamed again, and the man holding me finally decided to silence me. All I felt was a searing pain blooming from the back of my head, and then everything went black.

///---\\\\\

I was dying.

I could feel my life ebbing away as Thorn flew at top speed back to the capitol. He had ascended to a very high altitude, and frozen the blood around my shoulder. It was the only thing keeping me alive. But even at top speed, it took Thorn almost half a day to travel from the keep to the capitol. And I knew I wouldn’t last that long.

Thorn seemed to read my mind in that moment. His wings stopped rhythmically flapping and stilled. But he didn’t plummet to the ground. Everything seemed to freeze, and Thorn hung in the air for a moment. Then a thunderous crack split everything open, and the world elongated around Thorn and I.

The few hours it now took passed like an eternity. All of the sky and the clouds rushed past in a stretched blur.

When Thorn finally slowed down and the capitol came into view, I was barely conscious and it was all I could do not to let go of Thorn. But when Thorn finally alighted in the gardens ringing the keep, I finally lost the battle and toppled ungracefully to the side, mercifully landing on my uninjured shoulder. My ear was pressed to the ground and I could hear footsteps pounding, getting closer, but I felt so tired. Everything would be fine if I just closed my eyes for a moment.

\---

The entire left side of my body felt like it was on fire. Nothing any of the healers did or tried could fix it, and it felt like I was burning alive.

After the first hour, my throat had gotten too raw to scream. After the second, they changed to linens on the bed I was writhing in agony on…too much blood. After the third, fourth, and fifth I finally became too tired to move. The bandages covering my right shoulder showed a remarkably small amount of blood, which seemed like a good sign.

I finally took a moment to process what had happened at the keep. There had been more pirates. Hiding. Their leader had come himself. They had taken Fiona.

_Fiona._

I kissed her.

She kissed me back.

 _She doesn’t really like you_ said the little voice in my head.

_She was just in shock_

_You were both in shock_

_She doesn’t want you_

_You’re damaged_

_Broken_

I was pulled out of my unpleasant reverie by the sound of a door. I tilted my head to the side to see who it was and smiled weakly when I saw that it was Will.

He returned my smile. “They really did a number on you, didn’t they?”

I chuckled, sending stabs of pain through my chest. “They tried their best, but I am much too stubborn to die.” My voice was still raspy and scratchy from the screaming.

Will smiled again, and then his face fell. “Where is she, Reyn? What happened to Fiona?”

My face fell into a much sadder expression and I looked down at my hands. “They took her.” I felt hot tears splash down on to my hands, but I looked back up at him with all the confidence I could muster. “I’m going to get her back.”

 

_Two Months Later…_

I picked up a sword, weighed it in my hand, and took a few practice slashes with it. Too heavy. I put it back, unsatisfied.

“You can’t, Reyn.”

It was Will, still trying to talk me out of it.

I laughed. “You trying to talk me out of this is getting really old.”

“That’s because it’s a horrible idea!” Will replied. “You can’t defeat an entire army. And you aren’t healed enough.”

I shrugged, wincing a little bit. “Maybe not an _entire_ army. Although there was that one time in the bay of sky-“

“Those were pirates. This would be an organized, legitimate army.”

I picked up a spear this time. Long, elegant, and wicked sharp. Perfect.

I hadn’t fought with a spear in decades, but its weight felt normal in my hand.

“Under the employ of pirates,” I turned to Will, “And it’s only an army if I get caught. Now I’m going and that’s the end of it.”

He looked like he had a witty retort, but instead he just said: “Why?”

I was baffled. “They have _my_ sword. I want my fucking sword back, Will.”

He gave me a look that said _You aren’t fooling anybody_.

I wanted to yell in frustration, but I kept my voice calm. “You know why.”

Will shook his head. “One girl isn’t worth dying over, Reyn.”

“I don’t care!” I yelled. “She’s in this mess because of _me_. I know what they’re doing to her, and every minute I wait, _every second_ , just means they have more time to do damage. And besides, it’s been a while since I’ve had a good fight.”

He grabbed my shoulders and shook me, and I tried not to wince.

He frowned and shook his head. “If you’re wincing from that, imagine what a fight is going to do to it. One good hit and your shoulder splits open again.”

“I’m sorry, Will. But this is something I have to do.”

Will sighed, and chuckled. “You’re insane.”

I pulled him into a tight bear hug.

“You know it.” I whispered.

\---

The Immortal City was one of the most trafficked ports of the world, easily the most populated city in all of Caelus, and the foremost merchant hub for ten thousand miles in any direction. Full of life, and energy; silks and minerals for sale at every corner.

But nowadays, it was as if someone had sucked the very essence out of the city. Merchants were few and far, houses were dilapidated and perpetually shuttered. The arena remained the center of the city. A beacon of corrupted light in a sea of darkness, for now, the only joy anyone in the arena experienced was in the form of one challenger beating the other to death. To top it all off, the close proximity of the city to the Eastern border had made it one of the first cities to be conquered. The pirates controlled the arena, and in essence, the city.

I looked up at the arena, from afar, it looked bright, but up close, you could see the dirt and grime covering it. I could hear cheers and clashes of metal on metal emanating from inside. I made the grimmest, scowliest expression I could, slid my spear into a sheath on my back, and walked through one of the stone archways.

It led to a long stone passageway which eventually sloped upwards and emptied into the stands. I leant on my arms over the railing and studied the fight.

A massive man clad in patchwork armor and a loincloth, swung an equally massive sword at a considerably smaller figure, wearing a sleek black suit with a hood and mask. Unrecognizable. But the two swords they wielded were unmistakable. One was dark grey, the other, bright white. As I watched, the smaller figure danced around the larger one, using his size against him, and eventually they dragged their swords across the back of his leg. He grunted in pain and fell to one knee.

My eyes widened as the smaller figure crossed their swords at the base of the larger ones neck and sheared his head off. It rolled off and hit the ground with a wet thump. The crowd went wild, screaming and shouting. The smaller figure simply removed her hood and looked towards the portion of the arena where the more well-off spectators sat. I struggled to swallow as I looked towards the figure. Her white hair had been cut short, her eyes were ringed by dark circles, and her face was devoid of emotion. But it was _her_.

Fiona.

One of the spectators Fiona was looking towards raised his hands and the entire arena fell silent. When he spoke, his voice echoed throughout the silence.

“Good people of the immortal city!” he said. “I hope you have enjoyed the revelry of the arena because it is time…for the end-of-the-week amateur hour. I now invite anyone in the crowd who thinks they have what it takes to defeat the reigning champion into the ring.”

A relatively large number of individuals separated from the crowd and jumped over the edge, on to the floor of the arena. I waited a moment before doing the same. Fiona’s eyes swept over all of us, stopping briefly on me. I saw her hands tighten on her swords, and the first of the men began to attack.

It was a blood bath, and not in the favor of the crowd. Fiona eviscerated a fair few, bifurcated a few others, beheaded one, and just plain stabbed some of the rest. Until it was just me left. Me and her.

I stared into her blue eyes and I saw a flare of her true self. But she squeezed her eyes shut and it was gone when she opened them.

I drew the spear from its sheath and spun it around a few times in a flashy manner, passing it from hand to hand and even throwing it upwards. The crowd went wild. Done with showing off, I got into a stance and faced Fiona.

I realized the plan I had carefully formulated had been rendered useless, so I decided to improvise. Fiona seemed unreadable, but most of my teachers in the past had taught me to read the unreadable. Her jaw clenched and her hands tightened around her swords, and then she attacked. She was relentless, but I had taught her everything she knew, so blocking was almost effortless. I decided to go on the offensive, taking a few practice swipes at her to gauge her reaction time.

Eventually she did something unexpected and delivered an uppercut to my jaw. I was bewildered for a moment and when I finally refocused, she brought both her swords down and I narrowly managed to block it with the shaft of my spear. I slashed and my spear apparently thought it was a good time to crack in half. I threw the bladed half as hard as I could at Fiona and she batted it away with Farseer effortlessly. I was weaponless.

Fiona rushed at me again and I waited until she stabbed with one of her swords. I caught her arm and brought my hand down on her wrist. She grunted in pain and let the sword go.

I picked it up and jumped back. It felt good to have Farseer back in my hands, and I went on the offensive, slashing and jabbing almost faster than Fiona could block. I moved from form to form effortlessly, and it became more like dancing as I continued. I maneuvered my sword around hers and locked them together. She pulled and tugged on it, to no avail. I grinned and pushed her away, adding a little magical oomph to it.

Fiona flew ten feet away in a heap. Her sword went skittering away across the floor of the arena. She didn’t stay that way for long. After a moment she was pushing herself up and looking around for her sword. I dropped Farseer and twisted my left side towards her, bringing my hand up and putting my palm out towards her.

A moment later, lightning arced from my palm and struck Fiona. She uttered a cry and collapsed to the ground.

I ran to her and took Farseer’s sheath from her belt, attaching it to my own. Then I threw Fiona over my shoulder, ignoring its protests, and ran as fast as I could towards one of the exits of the arena.

I heard the screams and shouts of the nobles, calling for my head and their prized fighter back. The last snippet of speech I caught before I turned a corner was one of the offering anyone their weight in gold for me, alive or dead.

_Idiots, I’m worth more than that_

I sprinted through the maze of tunnels until I saw light ahead of me. I braced myself and bodily hurled through the barricade at the end of the tunnel, hitting the ground and booking it out of the city as fast as I could.

About a mile outside of the city, I came to a stop in a clearing. Everything was still for a brief moment before I heard the flap of wings, and the ground shook. Thorn had come.

I smiled at him before I set Fiona down on the ground, placing my hands on either side of her face and closing my eyes. I used small bursts of magic to see what they had done to her mind. It didn’t take me long. At the center of her mind I found a dark mass, wrapping its tendrils around everything it could find. I attacked it with my magic, watching it die seconds later.

I opened my eyes just in time to see Fiona’s flutter open. Her pupils darted around sluggishly before focusing on me.

“Reyn?” she said weakly.

I drew her up against me and she tensed before relaxing slightly.

“I’ve got you.” I said. “It’s alright, I’m taking us home.”

I stood up and cradled her in my arms, feeling a stabbing pain from my shoulder. I grit my teeth and ignored it.

Only when Fiona and I were both situated on Thorn did I finally feel her relax fully. About an hour after Thorn had lifted off, I felt her breaths even out. I tightened my arms around her and looked ahead.

\---

It took almost fifteen hours to reach the capitol, and I stayed awake for all of it. I knew it wasn’t healthy, especially damaged as I already was.  When Thorn finally landed in the capitol, I let my eyes droop closed for a moment, until I heard yelling and a chorus of footfalls coming towards me. I gathered Fiona in my arms, letting out a quiet cry at the agony radiating from my shoulder, and slid off of Thorn’s back.

Will was there, looking like he had just been woken up, along with Cain who looked similarly disheveled. With them was an entourage of guards. I handed Fiona to the nearest one and Will pulled me into a gentle hug.

“You actually did it.” He said, pulling back. “You insane bastard, you actually pulled it off.”

I laughed, which turned into a cough, which hurt. “I’m…offended…that you’re surprised.”

“Is she okay?” Cain asked, stepping up next to Will and gesturing to Fiona.

“She’s fine,” I said, “Just sleeping.”

I coughed again and felt something wet on my lips. I turned to Will, and by his horrified expression I assumed it was blood that I had coughed up.

I smiled grimly before I toppled forward, the ground rushing up to meet me

\\\\\\---///

I had been staring at my hand wrapped around Reyn’s for a while. Too long, but I couldn’t stand to look at the rest of her; the bruises and cuts, the bandages, and her shoulder. My gaze drifted over and I couldn’t look away. It had been wrapped in fresh bandages, but a small amount of blood managed to soak through, and the image of her shoulder nearly separated from her body was still fresh in my mind. I felt like I might start crying again at any moment, but nothing ever came. I guess I had no more tears left. So I just sat and I stared, until someone cleared their throat behind me. I turned to see Will leaning against the doorway. He looked tired, and it looked like he hadn’t shaven in a while, but he smiled. I offered a weak half-hearted smile back.

“You know” he said, coming to sit in one of the chairs next to mine, “Reyn told me to tell you something if she didn’t make it. And I’d say that since we don’t know when she’ll wake up, it qualifies. Plus I want to tell you to spite her.”

I laughed internally at that but I couldn’t muster a real laugh.

He took a breath before continuing. “She told me to tell you that she’s sorry, sorry she ever got you into this mess in the first place, sorry for everything you had to go through, and that she’s sorry that she didn’t tell you sooner.”

My heart jumped into my throat. “Tell me what?”

“She loves you. I guess it isn’t that obvious.”

My eyes widened. “She loves me…like, _love_ loves me? Are you serious?”

Will nodded. “I’m surprised you haven’t noticed, with the amount of shameless flirting between you two. She told me about that incident at the keep too.”

“The keep?” I squeaked out. “That really happened?”

He nodded. “I know they messed with your head, but come on. You shouldn’t be this oblivious.”

I tried to think of something to say, but I just ran a hand through my short hair. “She’ll never forgive me.”

“Reyn is old, she’s had worse. Plus, I know her, and when she really cares about someone, she can forgive them for anything.”

I shook my head. “But…the things I did.” I turned to him. “Will, what if-“

“She’ll forgive you” Will responded, “You just need to forgive yourself.”

I was speechless, and he stood up. “Get some sleep and think it over.”

He walked out and left me alone. I stared for a moment before I laid my head down on my arms. Before I fell asleep, I had one thought.

_He’s right._

\---

A soft music broke through my drowsy mind. It was melodic and melancholic and it almost lulled me back to sleep until an eerily familiar vocal melody made me bolt awake. I was still in the same room, except the bed my head was laying on was empty. I searched around the room until I found Reyn, facing away from me, in a chair. She was bent over some sort of musical instrument. It was large; larger than Reyn and contoured in a few places.

Her fingers were leisurely pressing down different keys from the assortment of black and white keys on the instrument—it was a piano. I had only ever seen pianos in the windows of beautiful music stores I was trying to rob. I finally realized it was _her_ voice that had made me bolt awake. And she was _singing_. Singing the same words as when my dragon had hatched.

“Reyn?”

Reyn jumped and her chair went with her, toppling over and spilling Reyn on to the floor. I heard a quiet “ow” and suppressed a wave of laughter. Reyn popped up on the other side of the bed, rubbing her head, and our eyes met. I glimpsed a flash of something deep in her eyes and my expression sobered up, remembering what Will had told me. Reyn looked like she was about to speak but I cut her off.

“Before we talk about anything else, I…uh…so, before I fell asleep, Will told me some interesting information.”

She laughed. “He did, did he? What exactly did he tell you?”

I froze for a second, trying to think of what to say.

“Just what you told him to tell me if you didn’t come back.”

“Alright, that’s goo-” she did a double take and glared at me. “Wait. What?”

The room had fallen deathly silent.

“Fiona, tell me you’re joking.” Reyn said.

I shook my head.

She started towards the door, anger visible in her expression. “I’m going to kill him.”

I got in front of her. “Reyn, no.”

Reyn shook her head and balled her hands into fists. “I. Am going. To _kill_ him.”

“Don’t blame him. We didn’t know if you were going to wake up, and besides” I swallowed hard before I continued. “It’s not like it’s something we didn’t both already know.”

Reyn showed an almost imperceptible amount of surprise before she deflated. She sighed and motioned to the bed. “Come sit with me.”

Once we were both seated, I turned to her. She was very obviously trying to avoid my eyes, staring at her hands instead.

“Why wouldn’t you just tell me?” I asked her.

Reyn chuckled hollowly. “Fear. I’ve never really been good with “matters of the heart”, or emotional stuff in general.”

“But…the keep.” I stammered.

“I was unhinged after what happened, and you were right there, and I just couldn’t stop myself.”

“But you defaulted to me rejecting you?”

I heard a watery chuckle and I looked over at her. She was crying.

“No” Reyn said. “When I…when I love someone, I love with everything I have. It’s just how I work. And it…tends to hurt me more often than not. Do you remember the elf I told you about, Mira?”

I nodded and Reyn continued on. “When she died, I didn’t think I would recover. She was my first real love. I thought we would last forever. A part of me died the day she did. And my grandmother tried to help the best she could, but I was pretty depressed for a few centuries.”

My heart broke, seeing her like this. I wanted to reach out, but she wasn’t done yet.

“Eventually I found Thorn, though. He shared my pain, and taught me to move past it. So I closed myself off from the rest of the world, and only confided my best friends. I took control of The Veil and continued like that for almost two centuries.”

She took a deep breath. “Until one day, about a year ago, a new recruit walked through the gates of my keep. She had been a particularly prolific thief, and the Lord Regent had personally requested for her to be accepted into the Veil.”

Reyn rubbed the back of her neck. “I didn’t think much of her when she first came to me. She was an elf, and there wasn’t much else. But she was different, and she managed to worm her way into my heart. She changed me, she made me laugh. Something I hadn’t done in years.” She laughed. “The rest you know.”

I looked back at her, and she met my eyes. I took a deep breath and cupped her face in my hands and surged forward, pulling her into a long kiss.

She didn’t move for a moment, and I had a brief moment of fear, thinking I had gone too far. But then I felt her arms wrap around me, pulling me closer. I closed my eyes, losing myself in it. When she moved her head, I could feel the scar running across the corner of her lips, and it sent a shiver down my spine.

_So that’s what it feels like_

My memory still wasn’t entirely whole, and I couldn’t differentiate between my own memories of the keep and my imagination, but it didn’t matter. The kiss felt _real_ , and that was all I needed.

When Reyn finally pulled away, her cheeks were flushed, and when she met my eyes, I saw tears glistening on her cheeks. I reached a hand up and brushed some of them away with my thumb.

“Why are you crying?” I asked.

Reyn took a shuddering breath before answering. “I was content with being alone. But you’re here… _you’re here_ , and I’m afraid none of this is real. Some sort of cruel joke the universe is playing on me.”

I chuckled. “This is real, Reyn.” I pulled one of her hands up and put it against my face, laying mine over it. “ _I am_ real. And I won’t leave you willingly. You’re stuck with me.”

This elicited a small laugh from her. She pulled back and put her hands on my shoulders.

“Fiona” she said, adopting a serious tone. “I can’t promise that you’ll always be safe. In fact, you’ll probably be less safe around me. But—“

I put my finger up to her lips, silencing her. “I don’t care, as long as I’m with you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so like i don't know how i feel about this chapter but its here, its queer, and its almost 5k words  
> fuck it man im tired  
> also the only reason Reyn didn't die is because shes magic  
> also also i think i might try my hand at writing nice things for a chapter or two  
> also also also thanks for reading


	9. It's not happy I lied

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> yeah no when i said happy what i really meant was something to tear your heart out and stomp on it
> 
> also TW for mentions of rape and violence
> 
> EDIT: So i forgot to add a little context. This chapter takes place a few weeks after the previous chapter.

Reyn had stripped down to smallclothes and was sitting in the middle of many piles of clothes, glancing around. Her expression grew more horrified every second. Eventually she selected a piece of clothing and held it up.

“Do you think this waistcoat looks good?” Reyn asked me.

I sighed and shook my head. “Reyn, you are the light of my life, and I love you. But you have what I assume is two millennia of clothes. _Just. Pick. Something._ Since when have you cared what the court thinks of you?”

She crossed her arms and pondered for a moment. “I don’t know. The last time I addressed the court was…wow, seventy years ago and if we’re being honest with each other, I was dealing with the aftermath of a night of drinking. I feel like I should show off.” She looked back at the piles of clothes.

I allowed myself a small smile and looked down the clothes I had picked for her from the piles in secret. A gray tunic that would reach past her waist, a black undershirt, a gray sash, close-fitting trousers, and the pair of boots that were seemingly the only pair of shoes Reyn owned. All in all, lots of gray.

I bundled it all up and threw it at Reyn. It hit her in the face and dropped into her lap. She looked up at me questioningly.

“Put it on.” I said.

“But—” Reyn started.

“No buts.” I cut her off more sternly than I had intended.

“Alright.” She held up her hands in mock surrender. “Where’s my coat? And Farseer?”

“I sent Farseer and my sword to the blacksmith to be sharpened. Your coat is buried somewhere under the clothes.”

“So no sword.” Reyn said.

“No sword.” I responded.

“Way to take the fun out of everything.” she stood up, “cover your eyes.”

“Why?”

Reyn held up the clothes. ‘No peaking.”

I closed my eyes, but couldn’t resist a final jab. “You say that like I’m not going to get in your pants the first chance I get.”

I heard a choking noise that I assumed was Reyn and chuckled.

After a minute or two of rustling fabric I heard Reyn clear her throat.

“You can look now.”

I uncovered my eyes and smiled. Reyn had found her coat and put it on, wrapping the sash around her waist.

She smiled wryly. “I, personally, think that more weapons would accentuate my outfit.”

I shrugged. “You can go wrestle Farseer out of the blacksmith’s hands if you want, but as far as I know, we don’t have time to trek all the way across the city. So you’ll have to make do with the copious amount of knives that I’m _sure_ you own.”

“Fiona!” Reyn said with mock-offense. “I make a point to have at least ten knives with me at all times.”

I stood up and sauntered over to her. “It’s just my luck” I said, wrapping my arms around her neck, “that I would fall for someone with a weapon fetish.”

“I’ll have you know weapons can be very sexy.” Reyn said, bridging the distance between us and capturing my lips with her own.

After a moment I pulled back and stepped away from Reyn.

“I was going to make us late,” I said, “But just for that line we’re going right now.”

“But-but—“

“No buts!” I interrupted, pulling Reyn towards the door. “You did this to yourself.”

\---

Reyn’s seat overlooked the entire court hall, high up and shrouded in shadow. Reyn pointed out important people as they made their way towards different seats.

“There’s the Archduke of House Caith.” Reyn pointed to an overweight man with large white mutton chops dressed in red. “They’re sworn to the Greymarks. One of surprisingly many Northern houses to pledge allegiance to a dead House.” Reyn pointed to another man covered in a traveling cloak with a graying beard and short hair. “That’s the commander of Greywatch.” Reyn pointed again, this time to a young man dressed in green hues. “That’s-“

Whatever she was going to say was cut off by the bang of Will’s gavel against the desk in front of his chair.

“This meeting of the court is now called to order.” His voice resonated throughout the circular hall. “Does anybody have anything they would like to say before the assembled lords before we begin?”

No one spoke up, and Will looked around the hall for a moment before banging his gavel on the desk again. “The meeting is now in session. Our first order of business is a report from the Lord-Commander of the Veil.”

Reyn stood up and walked down the stairs to the main floor of the hall. She had pushed her bangs out of her face, and in the light her hair had a shimmering quality to it. Her coat was adorned with numerous medals and commendations, and a grey sash was tied around her waist.

She came to stand in front of Will and clasped her hands behind her back.

“What exactly would you like me to report on?” she asked, and then added; “Lord Regent.”

Before Will could respond, a nobleman behind and to the left of Will, one of the senators, spoke.

“You recently made an unsanctioned mission to the Immortal City. Correct?”

The annoyance at being interrupted was clear on Will’s face, but he said nothing. Reyn took it in stride.

“I wasn’t aware that it was ‘unsanctioned’.” She said with a slight hint of sarcasm. “Thinking about it, I don’t actually answer to anyone, least of all to you.” She added sarcastically after a moment, “ _Senator._ ”

“Your mistake is assuming that the Veil is yours to control as you please, _Lord-Commander_. They are an entity of the Regency, and are to be considered-”

“Pardon me” Reyn interrupted the senator, and I could see the muscles in her cheek twitch, “but I’ve commanded the Veil for a long time. And you aren’t the first person to assume you have more power than you do. So, Senator, respectfully” she smiled sweetly, “go fuck yourself.”

Reyn turned around and swept out of the hall. Will met my eyes and motioned subtly towards the door.

\---

Reyn had absconded quickly, and there was no telling where she could have gone. I started at the taverns, which seemed the most likely place for her to go. When that didn’t pan out I scoured every weapons shop I could find, then every market and bazaar and back-alley black market, and then any temple or religious place.

 _I’m really scraping the bottom of the barrel_ I thought to myself.

The sun was low in the sky when I finally found her. Ringing the keep were large gardens full of every plant and tree I could imagine. They swooped overhead, creating a canopy of shade. Grass and beautiful flowers lined the dirt paths through the trees. Each path ended in a white gazebo that looked out over the city. Reyn was sat on the railing of one of the gazebos with her back against one of the columns, looking out over the city. She had discarded her tunic somewhere and her coat was in a heap on the ground. One of her legs was extended out and the other was bent towards her body.

In one of her hands she held a pipe, and the smoke lazily drifting from it created a halo around her head. In the light of the setting sun, she looked ethereal.

Beautiful.

Reyn exhaled a column of smoke and looked towards me. Her expression was somber, and filled with a deep sadness. But she had a small smile on her face when her eyes met mine.

“Hey.” She said, breaking the silence.

“Hi.” I said. “Why’d you run off?”

Reyn took another drag off of the pipe and blew a long trail of smoke. After a moment, she sighed.

“That senator in the court today. He reminded me of someone I knew a long time ago. It…dredged up some bad memories.”

I walked over to her and sat against the railing she was sitting on. “Want to talk about it?”

Reyn sighed and slid down next to me. “Not really. But I will.”

She shook the ashes out of her pipe and stowed it inside one of her coat pockets. She settled next to me and tangled one of her hands with mine.

“It started the day I told my parents I told my parents that I liked girls.” She began. “My parents loved each other, but they always had different philosophies towards many things, and love was no different. My father accepted it as a parent should, with love and kindness. He even promised to teach me how to seduce women…I’m still not sure if he was kidding. The people he came from always believed that love was love, no matter who it was between. My mother…believed differently. She was old-fashioned and stubborn, and when I told them both, she was furious. But…” she paused, and took a deep breath.

“But?” I asked.

“But she came around eventually.” Reyn continued. “Although, at that point, almost the entire capitol knew. Which wasn’t necessarily the worst thing ever; there were lots of cute girls in the capitol. But the court knew. A few of the senators had championed for political marriages to strengthen the bonds between the different nations of Caelus, and of course, to line their own pockets. They were also prejudiced, and a fair few of them already hated me. This new development made them very unhappy.”

Her grip on my hand had gotten tighter, and I could see her knuckles whitening.

“One of the senators went too far, though. One day, he contacted my father’s spymaster and paid him his weight in gold to contract a group of men for a special assignment. They were to break into my room late at night and ‘show me the error of my ways’.”

“They…they…” her voice cracked.  “They tried to rape me. I was nineteen. The only thing that stopped them was my personal guards. They had heard my screaming. My father was furious, but he couldn’t find out who did it. So I took the knife my father had given me, and I went to the spymaster in the night, and wrung every piece of information I could out of him, and then I went to the senator and I…I _made him pay_.” Reyn spat the last part with deadly venom.

“I told my father what I had done the next morning and expected his fury. Instead, he told me that from that day forth, I was the new spymaster.”

“Wow.” I said after she had finished. “That was…that was really intense.”

Reyn nodded. “So? What do you think?”

“About what?”

“About me? About the story? About anything?!” Reyn growled in frustration. “Give me something, please.”

“Are you asking if it makes me think any differently of you?” I asked, and Reyn nodded.

“No! Of course it doesn’t. Don’t you remember that tiny speech you just gave about unconditional love? I love you, and the fact that you’re a two-thousand year old murderous assassin who is not-so-secretly a dork doesn’t change that. You killing some guys for revenge a long time ago won’t change that either.” I twisted towards her. “I care about what’s in here” I pointed to her heart, “and you’ve demonstrated the contents pretty well.”

Reyn sniffled and scrubbed a hand over her eyes. “Thanks…I…I don’t think I’ve ever told anyone that story. I just…thank you.”

She rested her head on my shoulder, and we were both silent for  time, until Reyn spoke again.

“Fiona” she said, her voice steeped with uncertainty, “I love you. You know that, right?”

I leaned my head over and rested it on top of hers. “I know. I love you too Reyn.”

I could feel Reyn’s smile in her words. “Thanks. I just wanted to…”

Her words trailed off mid-sentence. It took me a few minutes to figure out that she had fallen asleep right then and there. The force of my own exhaustion hit me like a ton of bricks in that moment, and I figure that there would be any harm in just resting my eyes. Just for a moment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im tired and like barely lucid and i think im hallucinating but thanks for reading


	10. Author's Note

Alright so i'm not in the best state of mind right now. I tried writing a chapter and it was just the angstiest, most horrible thing I've written so yeah. I have other ideas that have been bouncing around inside my head that i want to try to tackle, but i just need to take a break from Shattered Throne for a while.


	11. A cat that is also a brick wall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Reyn is tired.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow that took a while. But i like this chapter, it's a little window into Reyn's personality.  
> Thanks for reading!

I don’t know how long I slept, but when I woke again, it was dark. My cheek was against something soft that was rhythmically rising and falling. I was being carried, and I had a brief moment of panic before I remembered falling asleep…next to Reyn.

_Oh._

I cracked one eye open to survey my surroundings. About five feet in front of me was a figure illuminated by a torch. When he turned back to look at whoever was carrying me I saw that it was Will.

_Better than some random person finding Reyn and I._

Will was saying something, so I decided to listen in.

“-hope you realize” Will was saying, “falling asleep in the middle of the gardens breaks some major laws.”

“In my defense, I was left unattended.” The person carrying me said, and the part of me still panicking was relieved to hear that it was Reyn. She sighed and spoke, “I needed sleep, Will. So did this one.” I felt her heft me slightly.

I saw a doorway pass overhead, and Will spoke again. “How is that going, by the way, You and her? Even though it’s only been…what, two days?”

“Yeah” Reyn responded, “She makes me feel good…happy. Like a normal person, instead of like a frightened two-thousand-year-old teenager. She has since we met. I told her everything, Will. And part of me is still so scared that this is going to fall apart in front of me.”

Will snorted. “I’m going to hold the fact that you just referred to yourself as a “frightened two-thousand-year-old teenager” over your head until I die.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Reyn said, and I heard her mumble under her breath, “ _Piece of shit_.”

I had to fight, _really_ fight the urge to giggle.

“How’s the shoulder?” Will asked.

“Horrible.” Reyn let out a shaky breath. “It feels like absolute shit all the time. And before you say ‘I told you so’, I already know it’s my own fucking fault.”

“I _did_ tell you!” Will replied. “But it’s like trying to reason with a cat that is also a brick wall.”

“Did you…did you just call me a cat?”

Will scoffed. “Have you met you?”

I could hear Reyn’s smile. “I’m gonna knock so much shit off your desk the next time I’m in your office, just for that.”

“You’re just proving my point you know.”

“Eat a dick.” Reyn replied.

Will laughed loudly. “That’s ‘Eat a dick’ Lord Regent Sir.”

I felt Reyn stop. “As much as I enjoyed this little talk, this is my room. And since I’m apparently a cat now, I need my sleep.”

“Go ahead.” He laughed. “But come see me in the morning. I have some things about The Veil War I want to talk about with you.”

_What a shit name_

Reyn apparently though the same. “Is that really the name we’re going with?”

Will made a disgusted sound. “It’s bad, I know. But my generals said it once during a court meeting and it spread like a disease. The generals tried to move away from it because they’re actually smart, but you know the senators.”

“Close-minded assholes, yeah.”

“Yeah.” Will agreed. “Anyway, goodnight.”

His footsteps receded down the hall, and Reyn was moving again, kicking a door open as gentle as she could and shuffling through it sideways.

I felt her set me down gently on a bed, and I stretched out before rolling over and curling on my side. Next I felt a sheet being draped over me and I might’ve imagined it, but I felt the lightest, briefest touch of lips against my forehead. Footsteps moved away from the bed, and I heard the latch of the window. A moment later cool air blew over me and I shivered.

I finally opened my eyes and looked towards the window; I could see Reyn perfectly, standing in the moonlight. She was looking away from me and holding her pipe. As I watched, she lit a fire on one of her finger tips and kindled the pipe, taking a long drag and exhaling a massive quantity of smoke out the window. I found myself involuntarily staring; tracing the line of her jaw, the shape of her lips, the tension I could see she carried, like a cat preparing to pounce, all the small winces and grimaces when she moved her injured shoulder.

She blew out more smoke and spoke softly. “It’s not polite to stare, Fi.”

“How long have you known I was awake?” I asked.

“Not that long. You holding in laughter when I called Will a piece of shit really clued me in though.”

I chuckled, but Reyn didn’t.

I frowned. “Are you okay?”

Reyn took a long drag from the pipe and forced the smoke out.

“Yeah.” She said after a long time. “I’m just tired.”

“You do realize that I’m in _your_ bed. If you’re tired, come and sleep.”

Reyn emptied the pipe and pocketed it, throwing her coat over a chair near the window. She stood by the window for a moment more before she latched the window shut. I closed my eyes again, and eventually I felt the bed dip. I flipped over to my other side and curled into Reyn’s side, laying my head on her chest and searching out with a hand until I felt her fingers interlace with mine.

Everything was quiet for a moment, and I listened to Reyn’s heartbeat; steady and constant. I frowned.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” Reyn responded after a minute, “I just…I don’t usually get to sleep this early.”

I frowned again. “What do you usually do?”

“I read. I smoke. I climb on to the roof and stare out at the sky. It’s all very nice and introspective. I don’t really get a lot of sleep.”

I laughed. “Yeah, that makes sense.”

“Hey!” I felt Reyn lightly slap me on the arm.

“If you usually read,” I said, “then read to me.”

“Are you sure? All I have is-” I felt Reyn shift and grope around with her free hand, “-an old-ass poem in three parts and wow, it’s older than me.”

“I’m sure.” I replied. “Read me to sleep.”

“All right.” She said, “My Old Geldish isn’t what it used to be, but I’ll try my best.”

Reyn cleared her throat. “ _Midway upon the journey of our life I found myself within a forest dark, For the straightforward pathway had been lost. Ah me! how hard a thing it is to say—”_

I tuned Reyn out for a moment to listen to her heartbeat again. The steady _thump_ resonating deep in her chest was calming.

Reyn was still reading, but I was already asleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the poem Reyn is reading to Fiona is the beginning of Dante's Inferno, if anyone was curious.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading. If you enjoyed, leave a comment or kudos. I would also like to clarify that I am not a professional writer, and I have no one to edit this. This is the first thing I've written with the intent to release. Be assured that I have absolutely no idea what I'm doing.


End file.
